Taken by the Wind
by ajattra
Summary: Stef has been gone for four years when she finally returns to Astoria. It doesn't take long for her to discover a lot of things have changed, including Mouth whose now a grown man. She's is quickly swept away by the crackling chemistry between them, even as doubts cloud her mind. And the other Goonies are thoroughly entertained by the drama between them. Mouth/Stef
1. Feels like the first time

**A/N:** A few words of forewarning. There won't be any smut - I just can't write smut for this movie, no-no! The rating is in place because of the language and the milder sexual stuff. The characters are all in their twenties in this fic, so that is fully reflected here, even though I tried to keep this light hearted.

Also, I'm a bit too young to remember the timeperiod correctly, but this is set in the early 90s, and I did try and keep things at least somewhat plausible for that. They listen to music from that era, make references to events etc. If there are mistakes, please bear with me.

The age difference between the girls and the boys is three years. Not sure if it's correct (I think Martha and Corey were just a year apart in real life), but I went with this. There seemed to be a larger gap in age in the movie (to me anyway).

* * *

1. Feels like the first time

Astoria. Wow.

_Nothing _had changed, or so Stef told herself as she picked up her suitcase and began walking down the street. The bus she'd taken here continued its journey soon after she got off; it left her with a sense of insecurity after her only means of escape was gone. She needed to remind herself that it had been her decision to come back in the first place, even as she was starting to feel the slow working dread of return in her bones.

Stephanie had left Astoria four years ago, set off to go as far away as possible in chase of her dreams. Returning now after a long absence was strange, but necessary. She hadn't really kept much contact with everyone else, although Andy called her in regular intervals, spreading the gossip, talking about her and Brand's upcoming wedding, and listening what Stef had to say in return. Her mother would write and call often as well, her questions oozing thinly veiled worry about Stef's choices. It wasn't spoken aloud, but Stef knew her mom was worried about her new life sweeping her off her feet and consuming her until there was nothing left. Such concerns were very understandable though.

She walked down the street in her heels, blonde curls framing her determined face as she carried her suit case. The people she passed by didn't seem all that interested in her, even if there were lingering stares, and she was glad that no one seemed to recognize her. It wasn't that strange however, seeing how her years in college had changed her. Instead of her gaudy glasses she wore contacts. Her clothes were form fitting and feminine. Her hair was longer too.

The transformation had started innocently enough. With her share of the treasure her parents had afforded any college she wanted, and so the book worm had chosen to expand her horizons, to travel, to leave. She'd applied and studied political science at first, until being seduced by literature. After a change of majors she'd buried herself in books, seeking to understand language and the machinations of history. But somewhere between classes and reading and being housed in her dorm room with a bunch of strangers, the move hadn't felt like such a good idea after all.

She'd searched for friends everywhere, eventually finding like minded people, people she desperately wanted to be like. With a bit of grooming her new friends had turned her into someone else, someone who truly made an impression. Bit by bit she'd taken more time simply socializing and done less studying.

A couple of dreadful dating experiences and uncomfortable situations later she'd come to realize she wasn't really happy. This new Stef simply hadn't been _her_.

So when Andy called up about the wedding and wanting to have her as a maid of honor Stef had relented; she'd promised to jump on the next bus and come for a visit. Andy had been overjoyed at this announcement, even going as far as saying she'd get the whole gang together for dinner, and they could exchange stories and go the beach together. Her response to this had been reserved at best, but she'd managed to make it sound nervous rather than horrified. Would they even remember her anymore? It wasn't like she'd been a pivotal part of the gang.

Stef scanned the streets for familiar faces, glancing at her wrist watch nervously, biting her lip. Her mother had promised to pick her up, but there was no sign of her yet. Her shoulders tensed at the realization, doubt lingered in her mind. She usually hated waiting and didn't miss a chance to promote the need for timeliness and punctuality. However here, _at home_, it didn't feel like time passed at all. She wasn't in a hurry to get to a meeting or a lecture, and the day was lovely; there was sunshine and a soft breeze, it was Thursday already so no one was in a hurry to get anywhere, everything around her was in full-bloom, and the gentle noise from the traffic and the people outside felt like balm to her ears after living in noise central for years now. Stef moved and sat down on a near-by bench, caught off-guard by just how much she'd missed these little things.

She sat a bit awkwardly, leaning over her legs, glad that she didn't need to maintain a good posture, but could just be herself for a change, be the Stef she'd used to be. The wind pushed at her chin-length curls playfully, and she brushed them behind her ear, taking in the moment. One arm holding onto her bare shoulder, she just looked onwards, mind fleeing to better days, like that moment on the beach when the long forgotten pirate ship had set sail, and they had watched it glide onwards gracefully against the sunrise.

Then she felt a presence behind her, like someone was standing right there, watching her. Certainly she was just imagining it, she told herself, wanting to brush it off. But she could ignore it once it started talking to her.

"Waiting for a ride, Stef?"

His voice was more mature, teasing surely, but it had a whole new layer to it; it was kind of mellifluous, full. In spite of not hearing it for years now, Stef recognized it in an instant, for back when they had snuck into caverns beneath the town and argued over pointless details, she'd heard it _constantly_.

She turned to him slowly, his old nick name already ready to fall off her tongue, only to be held back at the last minute when she was caught in her own ideas of proper behavior. So like with so many things in the recent years, Stef held back and came up with a more proper response.

"Hey Clark," she greeted him, taking in the sight of him with a foreign amount of excitement.

"_Hey Clark_?" he repeated her words, making a face at her, "You've been away for so long you don't even call me 'Mouth' anymore?"

Stef was caught in the sight of him though; His baby face had matured with the growth spurts she hadn't been around to witness. He was tall now, clad in a pair of undeniably good looking Levis and a t-shirt. His long hair looked ruffled but good, and he'd clearly stopped combing it at every opportunity at some point. Mouth certainly wasn't a kid anymore, but a very grown man and a very agreeable sight to behold. She could feel the muscles in her stomach tighten unexplainably, how he invoked certain titillation in her. It was downright embarrassing!

"Sorry," she stuttered back, flustered with the way her own body was behaving. It seemed completely divorced with the facts that he was a kid she'd pretty much babysat. Hell, he was three years her junior, but sitting here now, those years seemed to vanish away, dissolved in her absence.

"It was a long bus ride."

He quirked a brow at her statement, eyes fixed on her slender neck and flawless skin. For a moment he remained unreadable, which was very unlike the loquacious Mouth she knew from her childhood. The change was odd, for back in the old days they would've already been at each other's throats at the smallest sign of exasperation. He had been a master at rattling her.

"You're looking good," he eventually complimented, pulling his hands from his pockets and walking to her side. Her eyes were glued to him as he walked; they travelled up and down his tanned arms in a most appreciating manner.

"You too," she responded weakly, barely speaking loud enough for him to hear, but he did hear her words, and the comment made him smile. It was catching. She couldn't tell if she'd noticed his smile ever before, but it was beautiful.

Stef straightened herself, pulling her silky blouse back in place and pressing her knees together harder. Her pencil skirt hovered slightly above her knees, which was perfectly modest, but she was feeling awfully self-conscious about it suddenly.

Mouth didn't circle over to sit next to her though; no he picked up her suit case and motioned her towards a car parked a bit further away. "I promised your mom I'd pick you up," he then explained, making no big deal about it.

Struck by surprise she stood up, suddenly standing quite close to him, watching his amusement as he took in her bewilderment. Close up she saw the traces of his stubble, smelled that familiar scent of sand and beer and could tell the color of his eyes. Again the muscles of her stomach tensed, sweat gathered against the back of her knees and something inside her just quavered.

"She didn't mention you," she said dumbly, knowing full well her mom had no way of reaching her while she was taking the bus. It bothered her though, how he'd just conveniently appeared, taken her completely off-guard. She didn't particularly like surprises.

Mouth's laugh was low, complimenting. "She had some errands to run and was having trouble finding the time. I ran into her in the market and said I would drop you off if it helped."

Such a simple explanation, she realized with relief. And he looked back at her with the traces of a smile, looking and feeling so familiar and so foreign. This made her vacillate between her previous conclusions about him as a pest and an impetuous child and this newfound fascination.

"Ok then," she said, not really knowing what else to say. Stef stepped back a bit and pushed her purse over her shoulder, looking away whilst making painful faces. "That's very nice of you."

Mouth honestly didn't know what the hell was up with her, but he took in her somewhat awkward behavior with a smile nevertheless. He'd jumped at the opportunity to see her again, having actually somewhat missed having her around to argue with. No one else had ever been quite that good at keeping up with his antics or verbal sparring. Mickey had often joked Stef was the only girl who could put him back in his place, and Mouth thought so too. To find her like this, so different and kind of aloof, although looking incredible with her new attire, was somewhat scary. Andy had been talking about Stef coming back to town for days now, building anticipation in everyone (him included), and now that Stef was here he was kind of worried about her.

He chose to avoid making assumptions quite yet though. Maybe she was just tired and would settle in later on? He didn't particularly like the alternative.

Stef followed Mouth to his car, an old Chevy he must've fixed up himself, and watched as he wrestled her suit case in the back before walking up to her and opening the door for her. She felt a small blush emerge as he held the door and closed after her. Suddenly she recalled Andy's mentions of his luck with opposite sex nowadays, believing the stories wholeheartedly now. Good looking and courteous usually got you pretty far in her experience.

Mouth stepped in as well, and he started the car casually, setting his eyes on the road. He felt a small desire take another peek at her long legs that her skirt graciously showed off and fought against it, reminding himself mentally that she was an old friend: An insanely hot and foul-mouthed old friend, but friend nevertheless.

"So you came for the wedding?" Mouth asked her with no particular interest in the subject. Mickey was working as the best man, of course, but the whole gang was invited and involved heavily the preparations. He didn't mind helping because it gave him more quality time with his friends over beer, although he had to admit all the talk about preparations was beginning to irk him.

She didn't respond at first, just stared out of the window languidly, so he continued, "If that's the case aren't you a bit early?"

This made Stef react and turn her face to him. She looked kind of evasive in his opinion. "I've been away too long, so when Andy asked I just wanted to come."

"Running from something?" He teased her lightly.

Stef rolled her eyes at this, actually loosening up now. He was such easy company. "Like what Mouth? The Mob?"

"Hey you never know. The good girl gone bad routine's pretty popular in the big city or so I hear," he joked back, taking notice of the way she was starting to sound more like herself already.

"I haven't gone _bad_," she scoffed at him, feigning minor umbrage. "I'm doing O.K., ok?"

The words could've been a whole lot more convincing, but he didn't push it. Whatever had happened to her in the past four years, she seemed to be doing well. The little info Andy provided was usually pretty banal; Stef is still in college, Stef is dating a Poli Sci Major, Stef is not coming home for Christmas, yada yada yaa. It was different to see her now though, to truly realize how much she'd changed.

"So you're still studying literature?" he asked instead, trying to veer the conversation to a safer topic. As much as he'd enjoyed vexing her, this new Stef seemed a whole lot more thin-skinned. He didn't want to mouth her off.

"Yeah, I am," she responded. "It's beautiful. Literature teaches us about ourselves, and shows us these wonderful worlds and visions. It makes you feel like someone else entirely." Her voice was soft and dreamy for a moment, and he noticed her vulnerability then. Stef hadn't really realized how much she'd drifted away from the thing she loved.

"And you?" she countered the question, still a bit queasy about that strange knot inside her he'd brought forth. "What're you up to?"

"Helping my dad," Mouth responded without delay. He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing and made no attempt to hide it either. "His health hasn't been all that good, so I help him out."

There pain in his voice, something that alerted her about this health problem probably being a bit more serious than he let on. Stef wondered why Andy hadn't mentioned about it. She wanted to say something supportive and eloquent, but instead could only manage a lame comment, "Plumming's cool."

He snorted at her comment. "So when your pipes break down you know who to call."

There was a dirty joke in there somewhere, and she realized she was blushing again. Now she could add 'handy with his hands' on her list of his virtues. It would be such a cliché to hit it off with the plumber though, she thought, and then shook her head at it.

"Only reason I would ever call you."

"Only reason I would ever come to your house, Stef."

They exchanged a look and smiled. It was starting to feel a whole lot homey now, with them going at it like they'd used to.

"Seriously though," she started, nervous all of the sudden, kind of shaky about his reaction. "I'm really grateful you're giving me a ride. It'd be nice if you let me at least make you a cup of coffee."

Anticipation built in her even for such an innocent suggestion. Stef realized she didn't want him to go just yet, wanted to chat some more, to immerse in his easygoing charm and feel like a kid again. It was rejuvenating.

"Sure," he said, gripping the wheel a bit tighter now unbeknownst to her as she was looking out again. "I'd like that."

He glanced at her discreetly, eyes on her colorful silk blouse and the way it hung over her precious skin, landing softly over her breasts. His eyes followed her frame to her legs, smooth and shaven. Damn, she was totally getting under his skin now, and with so little effort.

* * *

They arrived on her lane, and he parked the car on the empty yard, which basically meant her dad was still at the docks and her mom was still running her errands. The thought of an empty house made her a bit nervous, but she didn't let it show when she climbed out of the car and motioned him to follow her to the house. Mouth dried his moist hands on his jeans before he picked up her luggage and followed suit, watching curiously at her swinging walk and the way her skirt embraced her behind. It was entrancing.

Stef picked up the spare key and led them inside. It was completely quiet, even as she hollered for response while trying to open the straps of her high heels to strip them from her feet. She stopped at the door, and made way for Mouth whilst trying to keep balance on one foot, which gained an eye roll from him. He simply kicked his sneakers off his feet and proceeded inside, leaving her things at the door.

By the time Stef had wrestled out of her shoes, Mouth was already at her parents' kitchen, picking up cups and coffee like he belonged. She had a nagging suspicion that he'd been here recently, probably working on the kitchen, since he seemed to know his way around here. She pushed herself next to him, taking the coffee from his hands and saying, "Here, let me."

He didn't mind her intervention; he just had a trouble staying put without doing anything, so he tended to make himself useful. When she stepped into his personal space again though, he was caught in the moment, smelling her fresh fruity scent that was mixed with sweat. He could feel a stirring inside him, old lust reawakening. He'd crushed on her so hard back in the day, thought of her often in his private hours. It was odd that after countless others and all this time she still had this effect on him. In fact, the effect was all the more torturous now with her in full-bloom.

Her hands were shaking a bit as she measured the correct amount of coffee into the machine. Gladly, she was able to mask it as urgency rather than nervousness. They didn't speak at all as she did this, and the only sound in the house was the old clock ticking precious seconds away. Mouth was leaning against the counter, hands folded across his chest as he watched her work.

She didn't know what think about him being this tongue-tied. Was it maturity or something else? Maybe it didn't matter at all, and maybe it did. Stef would've appreciated some manner of distraction though, because his stare made her hot and bothered, and she didn't know how long she could possibly endure it.

Once the task was finished she turned to him briskly. "It'll take a minute. Maybe we should sit down?"

She threw a glance at the hallway leading to the living room and he caught that, proceeding to move towards the suggested area. Relief washed over her as the eye contact broke, and he walked on, probably clueless to the effect he was having with her. It was downright frightening! Stef followed him though, not wanting to appear ungrateful or bitchy, and partially because she needed to be close by.

Mouth sat down on the sofa, made himself comfortable, and then smiled at her self-assuredly, tapping the empty spot next to him innocently enough. She swallowed visibly, tried to mask it as some kind of dry throat swallow instead of whatever the hell it really was. Then she followed him, and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, lifting her legs by her side and turning to him.

Cue for awkward silence.

"Never expected either of us to maintain silence this long," he eventually joked, breaking the ice successfully as she giggled at his words a bit.

"True. So true."

Stef threw her head back, all relaxed and amused, and he thought she looked more beautiful than ever.

"I don't feel myself today, at all. For one I don't have the unexplainable urge to assault you."

Mouth quirked a brow at this. "Really? Must be serious then. My arms were bruised for years after your abuse."

"You were being such an annoying little shit!" she tried to defend herself.

"True, but that's no excuse."

Oh god why was his voice so titillating? Stef almost found herself wanting to tussle like back in the good old times.

"You were always on my case, Mouth, and you just wouldn't let it go," she responded a bit weakly, self-conscious under his stare. It was almost smoldering.

"How else was I supposed to get you to notice me?" he asked, leaning in suddenly, throwing her heartbeat out of sync. Her palpation became noticeable, yet she ignored it, more focused on his face; how it carried a mix of determination and capricious excitement.

She remembered those moments in the cave and on the beach so clearly right now; her stupid offer to feed him oxygen should he run out of breath under water; the way he'd thanked her afterwards, clearly at a loss of words, and then hugging her; and finally how they'd stood together, watching as the ship glided into view, a representation of their own coming of age.

"I always noticed you," she confessed shyly, waves of anticipation licking her body, leaving her almost exhausted in their wake.

"You did?" he asked, inching closer, trying to gauge her interest, her reaction. "You always treated me like a nuisance, Stef."

But his words weren't an accusation; they were spoken with a hint of amusement.

"You were a nuisance," she responded, feeling the urge to pull away, to move, to break the spell. She remained still though, caught in this moment, his silent approach, her wanting to kiss him more than anything.

"Only because I was crushing on you," Mouth admitted, eyes sparkling. His words were rather a sexual innuendo than confession, to her anyway. Stef was about to say something when his hand landed on her thigh, and their eyes connected the moment that happened as he sought her approval. She didn't object at all.

His hand slid up a bit, eliciting a low moan from her lips. It vanquished his nervousness, brought forth his usual confidence. Stef struggled to maintain eye contact when all she wanted to do was to lie down and close her eyes. This was such a strange situation, certainly not something she'd imagined doing when she got back. And yet the attraction was immense, heavy; it weighted her down, wanting to be expelled.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked with a smirk, pushing closer into her personal space. Her skin felt hot, buzzing with this craving for him.

"And here I was forgetting why they called you Mouth," she responded sarcastically, insinuating that she would've preferred silence at this particular time.

"Oh, trust me. You have no idea why they call me Mouth," he replied, his voice husky, bragging. Her breathing became hitched, and she ached for him, to actually find out if it was all bark and no bite.

"Show me then," Stef invited him, moving closer to him as well, their lips crashing together a moment later.

It was a hot mess; his hands cupped her face quickly, keeping her in place as he tilted his face, and she closed her eyes, drowning in the sensations, in his flavor, in him. Somehow Mouth had learned how to kiss a girl in her absence, a fact she couldn't attribute to anything else than a lot of practice. And while the thought stung a bit, jealousy was just a flash in her mind, lost underneath this perfect moment when all they did was kiss.

Their lips parted, and he looked at her, a smile dancing on his lips, that familiar look of adoration on him. Stef had also opened her eyes; she looked bewildered, out of breath. Her lips were swollen with his attention, sensitive and craving, but in her eyes there was appreciation. Mouth brushed her wild hair from her face, a single innocent touch setting her skin aflame.

She kissed him again, grabbing the front of his shirt to pull him closer. And he followed her when she leaned against the arm of the sofa, opening her lips for him to explore. Mouth moved one hand on the sofa to keep his weight from being slumped on her and one hand to her breast. He expected resistance, a disapproving growl or look, but she didn't do any of that. He closed his hand around her breast, finding her receptive to it, and then he did it again. Stef moved one hand across his neck and into his hair, fingers curling into it. He nipped her bottom lip, absorbing the sight of her carefree smile.

He'd dreamt of this moment for years now, believing he'd blown his chances when she'd left Astoria; that she'd been the one that got away.

Stef jerked violently at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door. Mouth heard it too, freezing where he was, before turning to the door, and then quickly stumbling to his feet, separated from her. Panic flooded Stef's senses, it drove her to stand up and straighten her rumpled clothes. She wiped her lips against the back of her hand, fixed her hair, walking away already, refusing to look at him. Mouth wanted to grab her wrist and pull her back into his embrace, to tell her it didn't matter, that he didn't care if her mom caught them, but she was gone already, and he was left standing, brushing his hair in order.

A moment later Stef's mother came in through the front door, greeting them both joyously, expressing her gratitude for Mouth's incredible kindness. Stef stood on the opposite end of the hall from him, leaning against the wall and nodding languidly at her mother's words, eyes cast to the wall.

"Didn't Stef offer you anything, Clark?" her mother asked suddenly, making her way to the kitchen.

Stef stiffened visibly when she was left alone in the corridor with him again. "Yeah, I was making coffee," she explained to her mother, begging silently for Mouth to stay silent for once. He was staring at her though, still caught in the maelstrom of what had happened a few minutes ago. She didn't dare look back at him.

"Looks like the coffee is done," her mother informed her, and she saw Mouth take a step towards her from her eye corner. Unable to take the pressure at this time, Stef bolted towards the stairs.

"That's great mom. Why don't you two have a cup while I go upstairs and change some clothes?" she offered, already running upstairs like a scared little girl, leaving Mouth downstairs, looking after her like a puppy that had just gotten kicked.

This was not the way he'd expected this reunion to end.

Stef's mom appeared into view again, frowning at the sight of Mouth standing alone in the corridor. "That girl," she whispered with disapproval, "Probably didn't even thank you for the ride."

At this, Mouth only smiled though, appearing somewhat inscrutable. "Oh, she did thank me," he settled to say before following Mrs. Steinbrenner to the kitchen.

TBC


	2. Fading like a flower

2. Fading like a flower

By the time Stef finally dared to return downstairs thirty minutes later, Mouth was long gone. He'd sat down with her mom for awhile, drank his coffee staring absent-mindedly into the distance and then excused himself politely. Stef had watched him leave from her bedroom window, hidden behind the curtains, guilt bubbling inside her like a dull ache. She had no idea what was happening, but she just wanted to chill for awhile, even if it made her a bad person.

Her mom of course went on and on about what a wonderful and helpful young man Mouth had grown up to be. He was always helping everyone out, offering rides, fixing things, doing favors. Clearly her mom was really taken by him, even if she said this was so unexpected considering what a mischievous little punk he'd been ten years ago. Stef didn't respond, just tapped her nails against the table, still feeling his taste in her mouth, the feel of his hand on her breast like he'd branded her then and there.

She was so distracted that eventually her mom gave up trying to converse with her, and just told her to borrow the car if she wanted to go and see Andy. Stef's eyes lit with the suggestion, and she snapped back into the moment, asking if it would be OK. Her mom didn't object, naturally, just tossed her the keys and gave her a long hug, whispering how she'd missed having Stef around.

Stef gathered her things, changed into more sensible attire and shoes, and set off to see Andy. She stopped to call Andy at home first to make sure it was alright for her to come, and was greeted with unrelenting enthusiasm. But none of the little distractions seemed to dispel Mouth from her head, so by the time she'd driven to Andy's he was still fully immersed into her thought process, which was disturbing to say the least.

Making a conscious effort to forget what had happened a little over an hour ago, Stef got out of the car and walked to Andy's doorstep, suddenly showered with attention as a screaming Andy emerged from the doorway, wrapping her arms around her best friend. For the next fifteen minutes ignoring Mouth was as easy as hell. Andy brought them some refreshments, practically emanating light when she showered Stef her wedding ring and gushed about the arrangements. Stef listened patiently, happy with the fact that Andy was happy.

Then they drifted off to other topics, namely what everyone else was up to.

Mickey was still in college, studying archeology, and hoping to run the local museum one day. He was seeing some girl on and off, and Andy went on and on about it, so clearly it was something that occupied her spare time, working through Mickey's romantic entanglements.

Data was working as some sort of technician, while working on a start-up company on the side, because he apparently had a killer idea which would earn him millions. He was as good willed and energetic as always, even when he disappeared for days to work on his mystery projects.

Chunk had actually become a nurse, inspired by Sloth, and driven onwards by his wonderful empathy and desire to help others. Everyone knew he was working on stories though, aspiring to become a writer one day. Apparently he'd been thinking of writing a book about their pirate adventure, and was determined to get it published.

Brand was working as a manager at a local bowling alley, meticulously dedicating his spare time to exercise. He too was looking into making a career change and becoming a personal trainer, whereas Andy was working at a local clothing boutique.

By the time Andy started talking about Mouth, Stef found herself inadvertently tensing at sound of his name, the memory of his lips against hers overriding her sanity.

"You know Mouth," Andy said cheerfully, "He's turned out so well. We keep telling him to chase his dreams and become a mechanic, but he insists on helping his dad. It's so sweet."

Stef nodded quietly, unable to say anything that wasn't a heated confession of her recent actions; so she stared at the table instead, arms wrapped around her torso protectively.

"Brand says it's just him wanting to stay in town; that he's seeing someone again and not telling us. Wouldn't surprise me either way, the stories you hear about his shenanigans make you believe he's called Mouth _for a whole another reason_."

Andy winked at her, giggling at the gossip that circled in her brain. She didn't notice the way Stef absorbed the information with pallor, stuck wondering if it'd all been just his artifice and desire to lay one on her. The awkward confessions had come all too conveniently into play when she considered this in retrospect. Just thinking about it made her deplorably bristled, and she couldn't her fisting her hand violently under the table.

"So," Andy cleared her throat, turning her overjoyed eyes to Stef now, "C'mon, share the gossip! What's going on in your life?"

Her smile faded quickly when Stef looked back positively irked by something, and then conjured her worst attempt at an aloof expression ever on her face.

"Everything's cool," she said with a voice that radiated tension.

Andy was worried in seconds. "You don't sound OK, honey?" she said with a concerned expression, extending her hand over the table and landing it Stef's. And looking into Andy's sympathetic eyes, the way her touch radiated warmth, and she was silently telling Stef that nothing could be too bad, Stef found her resolve crumbling.

"I made out with Mouth," she then confessed.

Andy's face was precious: A perfect deadpan, proving how she had not seen this coming, at all.

"You and Mouth what?" Andy asked for clarification, as if unable to comprehend the words.

"Made out. On my parent's couch. An hour ago," Stef explained, tasting the words herself; they felt positively odd.

"Wow."

"Yeah_, wow_."

"How'd this happen?"

"I got blindsided by him. He picked me up for my mom, and we were having a moment, and _he's so fine _nowadays, and then we were kissing," Stef explained. Her face was anguished; she didn't know what to feel or what to do about this.

"And then what?" Andy was totaling lapping up her words like a kitten, hungry for more details, for more of everything.

"Mom came home and I bolted upstairs. Didn't come back down until he left."

"That's mature."

"I panicked!"

And as absurd as it was, they were both laughing in unison a moment later. This was a scene from a sitcom, or high school, or something – just not _them_, not the Goonies of Astoria. And it had happened nevertheless, just as described.

"I have to say," Andy noted when she started to gain control over her bubbling laughter, "There's gotta be some truth to the rumors about his special talents. I mean, you were all over him in minutes when you wouldn't give him the time of day in high school."

Stef feigned hurt at this, pulling her hand from under Andy's. "He was three years younger than me, Andy; in high school that's like a decade!"

Andy just looked back at her with a huge grin, teasing her, "But he was so into you! Everyone could see it. And when you left, I swear, he was pouting for weeks."

Of course none of this had ever been actually discussed before. Stef had known sparks flew; it had been obvious. But she'd considered herself the responsible adult. She'd made a conscious choice not to react to it. And Mouth hadn't made a big deal out of it. Thinking back maybe she should've rolled the die, regardless of how it was taboo and all.

"I feel guilty as hell," Stef confessed.

"About leaving town for college?" Andy looked positively puzzled.

"No, dummy. About kissing him," Stef corrected, feeling like the biggest jerk around.

"Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with that. My parents are ten years apart. If it's cool for men to date younger women why not the other way around?" Andy tried to spin it in a better way, to make her see this was nothing.

Stef couldn't help shaking her head though. "Not the age thing. The 'I'm living in another state' thing. Or the 'we're friends' thing." She looked positively trapped. Andy couldn't help feeling sorry for her, but then there was also the small pinch of happiness she felt for Mouth, having watched him writhe in his crush on Stef for years. By the rate he'd gone through girlfriends, she'd always thought no one could compare as sad as that was.

Andy stood up now and walked to Stef's side with calm clarity. Then she leaned over and grabbed her friend for a hug. It felt good to hugged, to gain support like this. Stef had missed it lately.

"Honestly though, I'm gonna want the full details," Andy whispered into her ear mischievously after the moment passed. Stef started shaking in laughter at this. "You never change."

* * *

When Mouth appeared behind Mickey's door later that evening, carrying a six-pack and some tapes, he didn't expect to see a full committee at the door, lying in wait for him. The moment he rang the doorbell three faces popped into view, eyes wide, shooting glares at him. Mickey, Data and Brand were all standing in front of him with _this look_ on their faces, Mouth couldn't quite place it.

"Hey guys. Where's Chunk?" he asked casually and made his way through his friends, pushing into the house and towards the kitchen to place the beer into the fridge. He was followed by three sets of feet and eyes still watching him intently. Mouth chose to ignore it. Who the hell knew what it was even about?

"Chunk?" he hollered, hearing no response.

"He's caught at work," Mickey finally explained, an unusually dark gleam in his eyes. He'd folded his hands and was now blocking the doorway.

Mouth frowned, finding all of this behavior increasingly weird. "Ok, guys what the hell is going on?" He asked a moment later, opening his beer and taking a good swig as he believed he wasn't going to live through this sober.

"Anything you wanna tell us?" Brand questioned him, head tilted to the side.

Mouth wasn't following any of this though, so he just looked back with confusion and blurted, "No?"

"Mouth!" Data whined, his expression faltering. "We heard about you and Stef."

The world actually stopped for a moment as Mouth leaned against the counter with beer in hand, staring at the three grown men who looked at him with unwavering interest. Wow. It seemed like news travelled fast, and since he hadn't opened his mouth about making out with the girl of his dreams and then getting the cold shoulder treatment afterwards, it had to mean Stef had told someone about it.

"Where the fuck did you guys hear it?" he asked, bewildered. It didn't take him more than ten seconds to figure it out though. "Andy," he sighed, taking another swig from his drink.

"Andy told me, and I called Mickey, and Mickey called Data. Chunk didn't pick up the phone yet," Brand filled in helpfully.

"Gossiping bitches," Mouth mumbled to himself, hiding the snide remark in behind the beer bottle.

Mickey stepped forward at this time though. "Mouth, damn, why didn't _you_ tell us?"

"Dude, this literally happened like 6 hours ago," Mouth snapped back, rolling his eyes at this madness. It wasn't like him to kiss and tell anyway, so why was everyone in his business today?

Data observed him and his annoyance with an analytical eye, announcing a moment later, "It didn't go well, did it?"

"Honestly, I don't wanna talk about it," Mouth said, quickly moving past Mickey and escaping to the living room. The committee followed him in an instant, flocking to his side when he sat down on the couch.

"Well, how was it?" Mickey asked, seeming genuinely interested.

Mouth shot him with an irritated glance, snorting. "What do you care?"

"Dude, you've wanted to kiss her since you were thirteen, and that's like a decade of pining over her," Brand filled in politely.

It was now that Mouth realized there was no escape from this situation. His friends were here, their attention irrevocably claimed by this scandalous event, even when they had a wedding (and more importantly a bachelor party) to plan. He wasn't getting out of this house alive without sharing.

"Was it everything you wanted?" Data winked a goofy smile all over his face. Mouth noted with interest that no one was judging him; they were strangely supportive of the whole situation.

"That and some more," he responded, taking another long swig of his beer, hoping it would remove her taste from his mouth; a ghost of it had lingered there for hours already, driving him insane.

"And?"

All three looked at him expectantly, practically on the edge of their seats. Now there was something that didn't happen every day.

"Girl ran out on me like a skittish rabbit the moment her mom arrived," he stated nonchalantly, that sting of regret prickling him again. Why hadn't he stopped her? He knew he could've grabbed her hand and pulled back into his arms, made her forget all about escaping, and yet he hadn't. He'd felt like a kid again, admiring her from afar, hoping the impossible.

"Sorry, Mouth," Mickey spoke first, walking up to him and placing his hand on Mouth's shoulder for support. Mouth frowned at this though, and then scanned the faces of his other friends. By the look of them he could've sworn they were in a wake or something.

"Guys, seriously," he growled, "It is not the end of the world. It just kind of happened, give her some time."

Brand snorted, holding back laughter. "Now there's the Mouth I know. All talk."

Mouth was suddenly shooting daggers at him. "No, not _all _talk. I just actually have a brain to realize that wasn't the first thing she wanted to do once back in town."

And then, glancing at Data and Mickey, he vowed, "She'll come around, you'll see."

Whatever you said about Mouth, you had to admit he was persistent. He usually got what he wanted, one way or another, and now that Stef was actually shaping to be a viable option, his crush on her was no longer amusing. The others didn't quite know what to say to him. No one wanted to see his hopes crushed, and no one could really encourage him either. There was no telling if this turned ugly and they needed to pick sides or something. The fear of such a scenario lingered in the air, even if it was the last thing any of them wanted.

"Are we done?" Mouth asked, eyeing each of them individually. When no one said a thing, he flashed them a cocky smile and turned on the TV, believing he'd earned his peace for the night.

Unfortunately by the time Chunk arrived a few hours later the game started all over again, and by the end of the evening Mouth had consumed his entire six-pack and then some.

* * *

Later that night Stef was caught rolling around in her bed, seeking for a position that felt comfortable. Eventually she just curled into a fetal position, buried underneath her covers, listening to her own breathing. She couldn't sleep, a strange restlessness resided within, so while everyone else in the house retired for the night, she stayed awake, thoughts scattered across the universe.

Trying to distract herself from the obvious distraction, she put her headphones on and started her old tape player. The comforting tunes of Queen helped with the anxiety at first, but by the time she heard "The Show Must Go On", tears were already streaming down her face. The loss had felt heavy, a bit personal somehow. But while others had listened to Madonna and Bon Jovi, she'd found a kindred spirit in Freddy Mercury. How could you not love a man with a powerful voice, flamboyant style, and who would sing about bicycle races or the wonders of radio to the whole world?

She kept forwarding the tape whenever a ballad would come up though, in a desperate attempt to keep at least some of her shit together. It failed.

For when she finally drifted to sleep, hands still clutching her tape player like her most important treasure, Mouth still crept into her dreams. He embraced her on this very bed, appearing behind her, tying his warm hands around her. He traced shapes against her breasts through the silky fabric of her nightgown, and whispered loving words to her ear.

And lost in this sweet dream, she actually slept way past her usual waking hour, dragging her ass out of bed finally at 11 am, feeling utterly exhausted.

* * *

Mouth had passed over the Walsh's couch that night, and he was more than grateful when he woke up, um, _excited_ on the couch and realized no one had come in to wake him up yet. Usually the brothers were nosy as hell and their parents a bunch of early birds, but this week Mickey and Brand's parents were celebrating their anniversary, caught in the marvels of Europe, so he was effectively safe from prying eyes as the brothers were probably also sleeping in. Relieved by this, he simply turned to his side, face crinkled by a yawn, eyes half closed at this point.

Mouth made sure he calmed himself down before getting up for good, although this proved difficult when he was still haunted by his vivid dreams from last night. He'd been back on the couch with her, lost in her graces. Stef had been swimming in his subconscious for so long that now when he finally had good reason to think about her she needed to be downright exorcised from his head. So with great effort he was able to push her from his mind and calm down.

When he was able to stand up, he dragged himself to the kitchen, immediately being eyed kind of funny by the Walsh brothers, who were apparently awake after all. Mouth tried to act normal, but he could quickly tell the other two had something on their minds; that he might've been a bit too audible about his pleasant dream last night. It was just written all over their faces, those stupid somber looks that were burying grins beneath.

"Morning guys," Mouth said weakly, grimacing at the brightness as he entered the room.

"Morning Lover Boy," Came Brand's comment that made both brothers burst into uncontrollable laughter seconds later.

Mouth settled to roll his eyes at this, and reach for a carton of orange juice from the fridge. He took a long swig to rinse the taste of beer from his mouth, whilst gloomily checking the temperature outside. When the brothers finally gained control over their laughter, they were looking straight at him again, curious about his mood.

"I need to pick up dad," Mouth said after a moment's contemplating, feeling the stares on his back, wondering how long the fascination in this topic could possibly last.

Mickey seemed to sober from the mischief with that comment though, and he suddenly sat straight. "Just remember the barbeque tonight," he reminded his friend. "You know: Stef's big home coming party?"

Oh, _he knew_. That's all they had talked about for days now. He'd been looking forward to making a good (second) first impression, until Mrs. Steinbrenner had thrown that plan out of the window. And now both he and Stef were up for some truly awkward moments with the gang since everyone had learned about the big kiss.

"I know," he answered, lacking his usual enthusiasm. Then he just left unceremoniously.

Once Mouth was gone, Mickey turned to his brother, sighing, "Isn't that just the saddest thing you ever saw?"

Brand nodded, munching on his toast.

"C'mon, we have to help him out. When Mouth gets quiet like that it's serious," Mickey continued, genuine worry bleeding into his voice as he lamented on his friend's unusual disquiet.

"It's been serious since he was in the ninth grade," Brand simply retorted.

As much was true, Mickey had to admit it. "A little discretion wouldn't hurt though," he offered sincerely.

"Fine," Brand grunted.

"I mean, it's not like that was the only time you even caught Mouth on our couch with some morning wood."

"Oh I wish it was."

TBC


	3. Change of heart

3. Change of heart

The day was torture. Stef tried to help her mom with various tasks, carrying on old routines in an attempt to clear her mind of the mess from yesterday. And yet her mind was racing off somewhere, trying to figure out what to do with _him_. Eventually she'd have to go back to her studies, her friends, and her life. This escape would end, and his bright smile would just be a dream on rainy day. The problem was she cared too much to do that to him.

Wasn't it better to back off before things got too messy?

So maybe things already were messy, maybe she was attracted to him against her better judgment; Stef acknowledged this, but couldn't quite balance the equation.

She didn't run into him though in spite of her various tasks in town, and a part of her felt bad about it, whereas another part was relieved. And with the slow creep of the hours, the evening closed in on her like a thief in the night with the solid promise that she would see him again, at her very own party. She honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

When she got her dad to drop her off at the Walsh's later that evening the air felt pregnant with anticipation. Stef had actually spent an hour going through her things, trying to decide what to wear. What would give the right message and what the hell even was the right message, she'd pondered by herself, eventually deciding on another skirt and a loose shirt to accompany it with. She picked up a cardigan to go with her outfit, worried about the chilly night. Her makeup was minimalistic, her earrings barely noticeable, but she stood tall when she walked to the door, turning around to wave her dad goodbye before bracing herself.

The restlessness in her had not resided yet; it remained beneath the surface, an electric charge that made her sensitive, more aware of her surroundings. She wanted to gnaw her lower lip like she'd used to when she'd been nervous as a kid, but adulthood had trained her to resist those impulses, those tells of being a misfit. She'd needed to fit in, become someone less noticeable.

But when the door opened and she was suddenly staring at a gentle giant, Stef forgot all about her inhibitions and stepped forward, shrieking with joy, "Sloth!"

In just seconds she was hugging him, feet barely touching the ground as he lifted her up, and crushed her happily. "Stef!" Sloth murmured, eventually putting her back down, beaming down on her with childish enthusiasm. He hadn't changed a bit.

Once he made way she saw everyone else as well, greetings and salutations melting into one as she hugged everyone in turns, speaking their names, happiness washing over her like a cloud. Mickey was first, then his brother, followed shortly by Andy again.

Stef actually cackled in surprise when she saw Chunk and a dorky smile spread across her face. He'd gotten a lot shapelier, losing some of that excess weight in the past years and now she could barely recognize him anymore. His curly hair and rascally smile remained though, and he hugged her shyly.

Data was up next, cute and forward like always, moving in to hug her from behind before she had a chance to look at him. And when she finally caught a glimpse of him, he looked so grown as well, a sleek young man instead of the scrawny kid she remembered him as. She could swear he was using hair gel nowadays, instead of just hiding his hair beneath a cap.

Stef froze for a moment when she realized the last guest was Mouth, who leaned against the doorframe, absorbing the sight of her. He didn't throw a mouthy, tetchy comment at her like usual, but he rather waited silently for his turn, indicating with a nod of his head that she ought to approach. Stef came awkwardly aware of the way everyone was looking at them, anticipating. Of course she'd known the price of talking to Andy was having everyone know what had happened, but she hadn't quite expected, well, this.

"Not gonna hug me, Stef?" Mouth asked with a challenge, knowing she wouldn't turn it down.

"I saved my favorite for last," she teased him instead, blurting the words out before she'd had a chance to think it over. Stef quickly closed the gap between them, hiding her face in his shoulder as they hugged, and then pulling back before he could react. She didn't let herself look at his face when she withdrew from the quickest hug ever and turned to the rest.

"Thanks everyone. It's really good to see you all," she beamed at him, her insecurities forgotten for now. She'd always bloomed in their presence, encouraged to be _her_ no matter what.

Andy quickly took charge and herded them all into the living room that was filled with snacks and soft drinks. They never drank alcohol in Sloth's presence in respect of his child's mind, and gladly he'd never felt excluded even when the others had begun to spent different kind of time together, partying until the night, talking grown up stuff. Chunk made sure he was home by bedtime, and didn't have to witness their drunken stupor and stunts, ever.

There was a lot to discuss; everyone seemed to have questions and comments. The subject of the kiss was avoided with almost planned precision much to Stef's relief. She figured the guys must've given Mouth a lot of slack about it, and would sneak discreet looks over to him every now and then as if to check and see he was OK, but she averted her eyes quickly in fear of being caught. And he looked great in his flannel shirt and jeans, telling jokes and making everyone laugh. It felt like home.

Some hours, countless snacks, and many stories later Sloth was beginning to weary down and Chunk chivalrously offered to take him home. Stef stood up to hug him goodbye, promising heartily that they'd see again before she left, and he giggled at her happily.

And not two seconds after Sloth and Chunk had gone through the door when the boys were already tossing each other cans of beer, opening them in unison and toasting. Andy scoffed at them playfully, inviting Stef with her to the kitchen to fetch them some drinks too, but it was like the boys didn't see or hear them leave. One of them was painfully aware of their movements though; Mouth watched them go in silence, sipping his drink.

Andy asked her what she wanted to drink, was surprised when Stef asked for a glass of wine. "Mmmm," Andy laughed, "Expensive tastes."

"It's not like I would turn down a good old fashioned beer either," Stef winked, remembering the days they'd been minors and had snuck beer cans from their parents, drunk from such small amounts. And there'd been hell to pay, and she'd been grounded so many times, but she wouldn't have traded those experiences for anything.

Andy was able to procure her a bottle of wine though, and get it open. Stef poured herself some red wine from the bottle, inhaling its scent from the glass before she took a sip. It tasted strong at first, but the taste mellowed after awhile and it managed to relax her with just a few sips. She didn't think drinking was a smart choice in this occasion, but at the same time she didn't feel like struggling through this sober either. After a few more sips, she ceased caring altogether.

They stayed in the kitchen for awhile, gossiping a bit, reminiscing their troubled teen days. By the sounds in the living room, the boys had already cranked the old Nintendo and were playing something together, shouting instructions and curses at one another. Andy didn't want to keep Stef to herself for long though and eventually the two wandered back into the living room to observe the game marathon.

The boys were playing Bubble Bobble, eventually switching off to Rescue Rangers, Ice Climber, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and countless other games. They had played them all to the point of ad nauseam, and yet they were making bets who got through a stage the quickest, who beat who first, and whether they could distract the player from reaching their goal without actual contact (like grabbing the controller away or poking the player). Andy and Stef worked as cheerleaders rather than competitors, the boys kept moving the controllers or themselves around, depending how long the chords were and were they needed to be seated.

And so Stef found herself sitting next to Mouth on the sofa all of the sudden, as he grabbed the controller that was offered to him and moved to a better position to play. She couldn't quite pry her eyes from him once she noticed him, glad of the fact that everyone else was so immersed in the game that they didn't notice. Of course he'd done this on purpose, inching closer and closer to her through-out the evening, taking notice of the way she would glance at him every now and then. And now he was leaning over his knees, eyes focused on the game, fingers working the controller with impressive speed and precision.

Handy with his hands, she recalled her earlier contemplation.

Stef hardly paid any attention to the game everyone else was so into. She studied him: his long nose, the wheat-color hair, his wild eyebrows, and the way he smiled knowingly, almost like he was fully aware that she was looking, unable to turn away. Her fringe fell on her face, and for a short moment she felt safe in its protection, as if somehow hidden from the world. Leaning in, she inhaled sharply. Mouth tensed, feeling her breath on his cheek, her overwhelming closeness, and subsequently managed to drop his character off a cliff.

The room erupted in wild fanfare for Data, whom Mouth had been playing against, and he stood up and waved his hands in the air like an enthusiastic child. Mouth still held onto the controller lazily, head turned to Stef who'd stood up now, panicking again, running away.

"I'm getting another drink," she announced as she headed off to the kitchen in haste. The others acknowledged her departure with resigned shrugs, but Mouth looked on, confused.

Once Stef had crossed the hallway to the kitchen, she finally exhaled that guarded breath she'd kept inside, and then laid her hands on the sink and collapsed against it, placing her forehead on her hands. What the hell was she doing? A deep breath in, another one out, Stef collected herself, nearly undone.

And when she straightened herself and reached for the wine bottle, she realized Mouth had followed her into the kitchen.

* * *

Meanwhile Chunk returned to the party, making his way to the living room and greeting his friends. He sat down on the sofa that was notably spacious, and watched the duel between Mickey and Brand in Ice Climbers for awhile, until he realized the bag of chips on the table was empty.

"Looks like we need a refill," he joked, standing up and reaching for the empty bag when he was suddenly cornered by Andy and Data, both supporting alerted looks, their hands placed lightly against his back and front.

"Mouth and Stef are in the kitchen," Andy said with quiet resolve, highlighting the unspoken message.

"No one's going in there for at least 15 minutes," Data added, poking Chunk to the side until he started nodding, having understood the message.

And so Chunk sat down pliant, still holding the empty bag of chips, and only now catching the sizzling tension in the room. No one knew what happened next, and no one wanted to be the person to interrupt the post-kiss conversation they'd all been waiting for eight years.

* * *

Mouth approached her with a slouch, reminding her of the kid he'd been. He was somewhat inebriated, but coherent still, and his slow approach made her feel inexplicably vacillating, downright flighty. It was as if he had purloined her sense and run off with it laughing, never intending to return it. Stef was now facing him, leaned against the counter, giving him her full attention.

He stopped near her, not quite in her personal space, but not too far from that either. They were the same height now, on equal footing. She became enlivened in his presence, almost like someone else entirely.

"What do you want, Mouth?" she asked innocently. "Came for another beer?"

He shook his head gravely, asking instead, "What are you doing Stef?"

He was serious; puzzled by the way she pulled away and then moved in on him again, as if unable to make up her mind.

"I don't know," she confessed with a vulnerable frown, shivers running down her spine all of the sudden, as if she was caught in a cool draught. "I don't even know you anymore."

He seemed to relax with that statement. "I'm the same guy. Cars, cable, older women, all things I like."

Mouth really was this maverick rebel in his eyes, always doing what he wanted, taking what he wanted. The way he'd just come onto her yesterday and how she'd let him, it didn't sit with the image of them as two kids standing on that beach, believing in miracles.

He raised his hand slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull back, to whisper objections. Stef remained still though, let him touch her, and so he planted his hand on her cheek, let it advance to her hair, those cankerous blonde curls he loved. Mouth moved closer. He was so patient, so aware. And yet he too was driven by the intense chemistry he felt here, by the joy of being near her.

Stef let him kiss her again, eyes closing almost instantly, her senses flooded with his closeness. He pressed her against the counter harder, hips grinding against hers, hands cupping her cheeks and caressing the skin beneath his thumbs. It was slower than before, but even better. Stef shuddered with pleasure, moaning a bit, suddenly alerted by the discomfort of her position and the awkward truth that they were supposed to be spending time with their friends instead of making out in the kitchen like two teens.

Mouth groaned in frustration when he felt her hands push against his chest, another rejection becoming apparent. "Not here, Mouth," she hissed, quickly dispelling his worry.

"Where then?" he grinned back at her and leaned closer against despite her attempt to keep him at an arm's length. He pecked her lips, merely amused when she slipped away from him, trying to straighten her clothes.

She wiped her mouth on her hand, trying to think, anything really, but nothing came to mind. Instead she looked back at him, clearly agitated with such little contact. "I'm a mess, Mouth," she tried to tell him, to appeal to him.

"Well you're my kinda mess, Stef," he just stated, like her words were nothing.

"Stupid," she mumbled, retreating further, almost writhing as her clothes felt too tight and the air was too thick. Stef rolled her shoulders to ease the tension, but it was lodged deep in her, a secret fire only he could calm down.

"Yeah you are," he told her, voice void of malice, but face full of challenge.

"At least I'm not the freaking town bicycle," she snapped, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. Even with the spark in place she never just jumped into things, and with him it was like she was spinning out of the control, faster and faster.

"Yeah, well I know how to have a good time. It's hardly a sin," he countered, taking small offense at her comment, even when he knew he was pushing her. And then, speaking more suggestively, he whispered his request, "Name a place, Stef."

She didn't respond, just held back, insecurity gnawing at her insides.

"Pick a place, Stef," he continued, knowing how much she hated it when he teased her by repeating his words again and again He'd played it on her so many times, repeating something until she was yelling at him, all crazy.

"God damnit, Mouth, stop doing that," her growl was angry, almost primal. It only excited him more.

"Afraid you can't control yourself?"

"You know I can't."

"Stop fighting it then," he suggested almost gently, while Stef looked back at him with unsure eyes.

"Pick a place Stef," he urged her again.

"I'm fresh out of sleazy corners for screwing."

He liked it how she said 'screw' with such passion, such attitude. Back in the day she'd been the one to teach him how to swear, always chewing a cigarette and cussing. He'd listened to her with strange awe, thinking he might ignite with a few more words, wondering if she'd utter them during sex.

"Fine then. My place," he decided for her, surprising her with his announcement.

"You have a place?" Stef wondered aloud, somehow having assumed he was still living with his parents like the rest.

"It's new," Mouth explained, feeling no need to further explain how he'd simply needed a place of his own, somewhere to bring girls, somewhere to strum a guitar till midnight, somewhere to have beer for breakfast. But the best part was, as he put it, "And it's private."

"I can't," she quickly reacted, shaking her head.

"You _won't,_ there's a difference," he told her observantly, running his thumb on the lid of a beer can he'd picked up a moment ago. He opened it a few seconds later, breaking the silence with the sound, moving the can to his lips afterwards. She wasn't looking at him then, contemplating his words instead.

"What's the matter Stef? Chicken?" he dared her.

"No."

"So why are you scared of me all of the sudden? You never used to be."

Still holding the can, Mouth actually moved a bit further now, checking the corridor that connected the kitchen and the living room. The door was ajar, but they'd been enjoying almost serendipitous time alone for awhile now.

"You were a head shorter than me," she responded smugly, recalling how she'd been the boss, always; Funny how he seemed to be the one in charge nowadays.

"You're not afraid of my head, are you?" he joked.

"It's included in my list of potential threats… Among other things."

At this, he raised a brow, genuinely puzzled. Was she flirting again? His eyes met with the floor; there was a clenching feeling in his chest. "Say you'll come," he beckoned her.

"Maybe," Stef said, feeling his pull again.

"You're coming."

He looked straight at her now, confidence shining through bright. And she damn well knew she was. Her protests were meaningless.

Feeling defeat sting her, Stef remained quiet and settled to pour herself some more wine. And he surprisingly let her be, leaving the room while she was pouring, at least attempting to maintain the illusion that they weren't arranging trysts in shady closets, no matter how much appeal the idea had to him.

For a moment there Stef just watched the wine swirl into the glass, red as blood. She waited for its surface to calm down, and took a sip, stalling because she didn't want to enter the room just yet. He'd agitated her, and she needed to cool down desperately, to gain control over herself. With little effort the heat between her legs began to cool, the drumming of her heart fade, and she stayed like this for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude.

* * *

By the time she returned to the living room the guys had started up their barbeque project and Andy and Mouth were chopping veggies on a table outside while Data and Chuck were meddling with grill. Brand and Mickey dug up plates and meat (plenty of meat) while listening to Data as he explained how he'd made special adjustments the grill and that they would have the best barbeque ever.

Stef offered to help, but her offer was rejected on the basis that she was the guest of honor. She scoffed at them, sitting on a lawn chair, making herself comfortable, but she didn't mind the peace not-so-secretly. Instead she simply lay back, relaxing. Mickey arrived to chat to her, leaning his hands on the back rest of her chair and jerking it a bit for fun. She stuttered lame insults at him with a wink, like it was ten years ago.

Ten minutes later Data had successfully burned off his eyebrows, set the lawn on fire, and they were left in the backyard with blank expressions, watching the smoking grill.

Stef had actually managed to jerk too quickly and knock the chair over, which had left her lying on the grass, catching her breath. And while Mickey was arguing with Data, clearly pressed about this experiment, Mouth appeared over Stef, offering her his hand and helping her up. Andy smiled at this discreetly, pointing out the event to Brand wordlessly.

"You OK?" Mouth asked her, once again way too close, his fingers holding onto her forearms sternly, face hovering near hers, investigating the damage.

"Yeah, just startled," she responded weakly.

He let her go before she could pull back, and it surprised her, but Mouth was confident in the knowledge he'd trapped her with his invitation, so he could back up, could give her a breather. And just like that he walked back to the guys, commending them on their superb barbeque skills, and starting a playful tussle as they all started getting a bit too worked up over the fire.

Andy appeared next to Stef, sighing, "Good thing we can heat the sausages in the microwave."

* * *

People started creeping out of the house when it got closer to midnight, and by one am it was just Mickey, Stef and Mouth. Stef was admittedly a bit tipsy at this point, amused the fact that Mickey had promised to borrow his bicycle so she could ride to her parents' house. Mouth was watching the developments in this with great interest, sitting in the swing outside as Mickey walked the bicycle to her, and she accepted it, giggling tenaciously.

She didn't get on it the first try, or the second, or even when Mickey tried to help her on it. Mouth was quick to announce that there was plenty of room for her on the couch next to him, but she simply stuck out her tongue at him defiantly, announcing she'd sleep in her own damn bed. He thought it was hilarious.

So when Mickey gave up, already sure she wouldn't be able to get anywhere tonight, Stef suddenly felt a different pair of hands on her waist, steadying her. She stopped giggling and put on a more serious front, clearing her throat and focusing. The next moment she was sitting on the saddle, held straight by Mouth. Mickey was clapping sarcastically at a small distance, but her smile was proud and bright.

"You're coming over tomorrow," Mouth told her, his voice but a deep, raunchy whisper. It made her heart jump to her throat.

"Uh huh," she settled to say, and feeling his grip falter, she launched herself into motion, shrieking with joy as she descended the small hill their house was on, and sped to the road.

"Night guys!" she yelled at them, embracing the night breeze, fast on her way home, her heart light.

Mouth watched her go, his heart fluttering at the sight of her skirt rising when she began to pedal, and turned to Mickey next. "I might have another, um, restless night ahead," he said in a spell of honesty.

And Mickey, in perfect understanding with this, put his hand across Mouth's shoulders and started walking them back inside.

"You just wait for the day when I pass out on your couch, and you have to listen to my sex dreams."

TBC


	4. Purple Rain

4. Purple Rain

There was a stupid smile on her face the next day, stuck there like some kind of romantic comedy version of the Joker: A genuine grin, the product of her walking on clouds, feeling weightless and giddy and just perfect. And the radio in her mom's kitchen was playing "Fading like a flower", the sun shone brightly through the windows, leaving her sitting there, immersed in the moment.

Stef just felt like dancing, and well, occasionally, throwing up. But the hangover came and went, and it didn't take much for her to start shaking herself along with the music, jumping around in her denim shorts and overly large t-shirt. No one else was home; her parents were already at work, leaving the house to her.

She'd promised Andy she'd come and visit, help with the wedding stuff, and she needed to return Mickey's bike anyway, but that was no reason to stop dancing just yet. Any gig and concert, shady bars with jukeboxes, the beach during summer – she'd always taken any excuse for dancing, tolerated the long looks of disbelief, the petty comments.

But damn, it'd been a long time since she'd last felt like dancing.

* * *

Andy and Brand had returned to the Walsh residence in the morning, choosing to spend time there with Mickey while the boys' parents were away for their anniversary. Also, Andy had deduced she might need to mother the boys a bit, to help them suffer through their hangover. Her own constitution was a steady source of amusement and envy in the household, as she rarely even suffered the aftereffects of drinking. Brand was glad to have someone coddle him a bit after a long night of drinking though, and Mouth and Mickey also got to enjoy her service by affiliation.

So at eleven am the four of them were all sitting together for breakfast, enjoying the morning sun and the warm, as well as toast, bacon and eggs. Bacon was Andy's secret hangover cure, and she always served lots of it. So nowadays the boys usually ended the evenings among friends with the fond words "breakfast with Andy", an invitation for the following morning. So far they had seen neither Data nor Chunk, and Mickey had clumsily revealed he'd forgotten to invite Stef over, which left just the four of them.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning so far, but Mouth was notably curious about the sudden lack of teasing. Mickey must've seen or heard something, and they all had dirt on him like it was no one's business, and still everyone kept their mouths all of the sudden. It was downright peculiar. He chose not to question it though, hoping this was a new direction for them all.

"Stef coming over today, babe?" Brand asked his fiancée lovingly, waking Mouth from his self-imposed coma.

"Yeah, she is. We're going to discuss the arrangements," Andy admitted, whilst reaching for some more toast.

"She looked like she was having fun yesterday," Mickey stated, glancing Mouth sideways.

"She looks so different though," Brand shrugged, clearly having given this thought.

"So do you," Andy responded, leaning closer to wipe bread crumbs from the front of his shirt. The gesture was so familiar, so _them_.

Mouth fought the impulse to mention she looked hot, knowing he'd just invite scrutiny with the statement.

"She's not as sassy as I remembered," Mickey chipped in, voicing their shared opinion. He immediately received several commemorative nods from his friends.

"That's 'cause she's actually well read unlike you punks. We all grow up sometime," Andy defended her friend, being the one person in the table who'd actually seen the signs of the gradual change, hearing it in Stef's voice with every long distance phone call, every fine worded letter.

"Some of us never grow up," Mouth smirked, elbowing Mickey at this point. The playful contact escalated into a small scuffle as they started to wrestle lightly whilst Brand and Andy just sighed, painfully familiar with this routine.

Then Andy caught up something from her eye corner and stood up. "Speak of the devil…," she whispered, and started waving at the approaching figure. This made the boys stop their tussle and turn to see what was going on.

Further down the road, Stef was approaching on Mickey's bike, blonde hair floating like a halo around her head, eyes hidden behind huge sunglasses. Denim shorts, a t-shirt, sneakers, she was dressed casually all the way. In a matter of minutes, she'd already driven to the house and jumped off the bike, greeting everyone cheerfully.

Mickey rose to meet up with her, surprised with her arrival. "That was quick!" he complimented her, "I didn't expect to see this back in a few days"

Stef stripped the sunglasses from her face, giving it a smug laugh, "Told you I'd return it."

Mouth had also stopped eating, and his eyes were on her. Those shorts were beyond too short, revealing her legs all the way. He devoured her skin hungrily with his eyes, until he saw a dark bruise on thigh.

"You fall on your ass on the way back?" he asked.

"Maybe," she snarled, "The road was bumpy."

Everyone laughed at her weak excuse, even Stef herself. She might've tried to take a short cut to her house through the bushes and failed, but she'd never admit it.

Mickey put the bike away and guided her to the table where Andy was already handing her a plate full of delicacies.

"So how'd you end up here?" Brand asked out of curiosity, shooting Mouth with a quick look, wondering if she'd come here specifically for him.

"I called Andy's house and her mom told me you guys were here," Stef explained, glad that she hadn't just gone over unannounced. Stef sat down next to Andy next, purposefully avoiding Mouth, which only worked so far, as she felt a leg brush against hers beneath the table as soon as she sat down. He feigned uninterested and even looked away from her, but she just knew it was him.

The next time he rubbed his calf against hers, and then slowly retreated, she kicked him, eliciting a hard yelp from him that caught everyone's attention while Stef munched on her eggs and bacon calmly.

"Something wrong Mouth?" she asked him with an angelic face.

"Muscle cramp," he lied, taken by her stubbornness.

And the way they shared a look, it was very clear to everyone else that the muscle cramp was probably happening, just in the general region of his waist.

Mouth cleared his throat, making a mental note not to piss her off anytime soon. She was always so violent when she was pissed: sexy but violent.

"So I thought your studies were supposed to be over by now," he said to her conversationally, leaning back in his chair. "Doesn't it usually take 4 years?"

Andy rolled her eyes in disbelief. Suddenly everyone was looking at Mouth, like he was asking stupid questions.

"Whoa, Mouth, you can actually count," Stef replied sarcastically. "I'm taking an extra year because I changed my major."

Oh yeah, he recalled, Andy had mentioned it before, lamenting on the fact that Stef had had a change of mind so quick and that it'd push back her graduation. "So another year still?"

She wasn't sure if she liked these questions. It was almost like he was trying to map when she'd be free to return to Astoria. Not that she even knew if she wanted to come back here, obviously. There were a lot more opportunities elsewhere, things she couldn't accomplish here, people she wouldn't meet if she came back, and…

He noticed her hesitation, and didn't consider it a good sign.

"Something like that," she answered evasively, unwilling to delve into the subject deeper.

And as usual, Andy came to her rescue, diverted the conversation elsewhere quickly, showing off her talent at discussing something everyone could share. Mouth, however, didn't push the issue away so easily. He'd been overjoyed at the chance of a reunion, somehow believing that it would be the first stepping stone to her return, but now he doubted his earlier conclusion. Maybe she didn't even want to come back?

She laughed heartily at something, chest heaving, and the edge of her bra was visible through her shirt for the blink of an eye. Mouth couldn't quite keep himself from swallowing heavily, enticed by this sight. And beside him Andy was silently chastising him, unable to blow the whistle though. They – her and everyone else – had agreed to let this play out without interference, seeing how Stef seemed to be susceptible to Mouth's advances.

Again the time came to say goodbyes, and the others made a quick and graceful exit, leaving just Stef and Mouth there to gather the dishes. Tension levels rose, he eyed her beneath his brows, thinking just what she'd said last night, convinced it wasn't just in his head; that she wanted this too.

He was throwing her off-synch just by being there. The air was full of grease, the scent of bacon and eggs, and yet beneath it was something familiar, him perhaps. Stef glanced at him quickly, taking notice of the way he too was looking at her now, perhaps afraid to speak aloud. This awkward song and dance wasn't strange just to her, but him as well, she realized.

"So this place of yours," she started, noticing how he immediately registered her voice, became more aware. "Your mom kick you out because of your lecherous ways?"

He gave it a relaxed laugh, waving his hand in dismissal, "It was my idea all the way, trust me."

She could totally imagine his wild ways being a nuisance on his home life, and that the conflicts had driven him out of the nest rather early. Hell, Mouth was just 21. He ought to be in no hurry to live on his own.

Mouth took her interest for a sign, and made his statement next, "You'll see it soon enough though. We agreed last night, right?"

She hadn't forgotten. "I suppose we did," Stef simply replied, feeling a bit fluttery again.

"Come by tonight."

A dangerous proposal, one she'd accepted even when the dread chilled her bones, wanted to twist her until she ran. Many times before she'd done just that, and been left wondering if things could've turned out better had she stayed?

"I said I would."

They were now looking straight at one another, warmth in their gazes, assurance.

"Good."

* * *

He slipped her a note when she was leaving with Andy. She stiffened for a bit when she felt his hand on hers, tracing a circle on her wrist, quickening her pulse with such a small touch. It was discreet though, the way he pushed the folded note into her hand palm and closed it. He watched her with the confidence of a fox as she left, even waving a bit with his hand as he leaned against the wall.

Despite feeling like they were back in school, passing odd notes during class, Stef began unfolding the note once she got into the car. And as she read it while Andy drove them to town, she couldn't help smiling.

_See you at eight. Bring a smile. I might gag you if you get too loud though, so just let me do the talking for once. -Mouth. _

His address was scribbled at the bottom.

* * *

She told her parents she was going out with the guys that night. Her mother wondered aloud why she'd needed to worry about her clothes for nearly two hours if it was just her friends, and she'd scoffed when her dad had teased her about it being a secret date. It was not a date. It was two old friends hanging out and possibly making out. No big deal.

Her heart disputed the claim though, loud in its objections. Every time she danced in front of the mirror in a dress, a top or anything fancy, it whispered to her, asking just what was she hoping to accomplish. With these nagging thoughts she eventually changed to a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket, trying her best to make herself plain. Beneath all the layers of clothing though, she was wearing her favorite underwear, lacy bra and matching panties.

So when Stef appeared behind his door, walking through a long echoing hallway to find his apartment, her nervousness was prominent. Every step sounded too loud despite her sneakers, every breath almost a shout, and her mind raced with anxiety. She found the door eventually, placing her hand on its smooth surface, tapping her nails against it lightly. She wet her bottom lip, a clue to her nervousness, before knocking.

The door creaked softly as it was opened and Mouth's face appeared into view. He looked at her with adoration, an open book as usual, seeing no need to hide his emotions.

"You're early," he chided her playfully and let her in a moment after.

Stef didn't have a chance to absorb his casual clothing when she was already stepping inside, her senses overcome by his scent, the quiet music in the background ('Purple Rain' of course), the dim lighting. The apartment was modest, small, but he seemed to fit in nicely. There were hardly any furniture, just a sofa in the living room which she assumed doubled as his bed, the table in the kitchen corner, and a TV with a lone bookshelf, almost empty and glazed with dust.

Mouth observed her reactions, pleased to see her comfortable here, even with the minimalistic setting. He noticed she'd opted for less feminine clothing, hiding beneath it. It wouldn't matter for long though, he thought whilst smirking, they'd all be on the floor soon enough.

"This is pretty nice."

"Well, it serves its purpose."

"Which is?"

"Privacy."

He'd snuck close to her, standing right behind her now, their bodies almost touching. The small hairs in her skin shot up, gravity shifted, and nothing had ever felt so important, so bright.

"What now?"

"What do you think?"

His hand moved to her cheek, beckoning her to turn to him, to face him. Stef closed her eyes for a second, bemused by his butterfly touch, inhaling him. Then she turned finally, skepticism on display on her face.

"Why do you want this, I mean, really?"

He scoffed a bit, amused by her bewilderment. "I told you," he responded, "I've had a crush on you since I was thirteen."

He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, leaning in while his hand rested on her neck. And when he inhaled, all he could smell was her perfume.

"That's a long time to wait for someone," she responded, holding her breath as he pushed closer and started to kiss her neck.

"Oh, you have _no idea_," he murmured back, finally kissing her for real.

She braced herself for it just a second beforehand, but got swept away by the flood of sensations all the same. Nothing seemed to prepare her for this anymore, this entrancing sweetness and warmth, how he enticed her so, slipping through her defenses too easily. It almost felt like she was floating, carefree and happy in oblivion.

His kiss was kind but demanding, a testament how the years apart spent wondering if he'd ever get to do just this had built his hunger. It went beyond arousal, beyond simple desire; instead he needed her. Mouth's hand slid to her neck, then her jaw, his touch holding her together even as she wanted to come undone right then and there.

Stef flinched when he pressed against her stronger, his other hand fastening around her waist. She fumbled backwards, her balance lost, Mouth following almost instantly, his breathing hitched, a painful groan escaping his lips at the loss of contact. Almost tripping as she struggled to regain her balance, Stef found her back against the wall and him pinning her down.

She made a small noise, surprised with his aggression, but as she felt him against her thigh, firm and growing, all her hesitation was lost beneath desire. Actions – hips grinding, lips locking, little nips of teeth, their hands wandering – blurred into one maddening haze of ecstasy, but they danced this mad waltz together willingly.

And by the time she pushed him down on the sofa, tearing through the buttons of his shirt, exposing his skin, her own shirt already on the floor, she could swear 'Purple Rain' would never end.

* * *

She wasn't exactly sure how he'd gotten the bed open in the midst of their foreplay, but they were lying on it afterwards, engulfed in sheets. She felt even dizzier now in her afterglow than she had when the tension had been at its fullest. He'd spooned her, his face pressed against the crook of her neck, one hand resting on her exposed breast.

His tape player was still playing a mixed tape of hushed sounds and heartbreaking ballads, which she had nicknamed his 'sleazy seduction tape'. It amused her to no end that he even possessed such a thing, but considering the amount of time she'd spent listening to her own tapes in the dark, fantasizing about romantic encounters like this, she didn't feel like judging. Her heartbeat had slowed down, and for awhile it beat in synch with him. Neither spoke, they just remained like this, close.

It was when he moved, brushing a lock of her hair aside, that she rolled on her back, eyes suddenly locked with his.

"Hey," Mouth greeted her.

"Hey," she echoed him, unsure what would happen now. Mouth saved her the trouble of asking though, for her kissed her shortly after. Stef pressed into the kiss, hands entangling around his neck, sweet paralysis spreading again.

It was the sound of the tape reaching its end that clicked them back to reality. Their lips parted, and Mouth turned his head to the tape player curiously, leaving Stef to muffle a laugh behind her pursed lips, suddenly reminded of his 'sleazy seduction tape'.

Mouth didn't get up and turn the B-side on, but turned his eyes on her instead, taking notice of the creases around her eyes, the way she was holding back laughter. He raised a single eyebrow at this, questioning her.

"So am I your weekend lover now?" she teased him, reminded of Prince's immortal lyrics.

He seemed to beam at her, like a man who'd had his dreams fulfilled. "Anything you want to be, babe," he said.

"Not _that_ though," she hurried to clarify, sounding more serious, almost sobered from her bemusement, "Not _babe_."

"Shut up."

At this, she proceeded to pull from underneath him, straightening herself and searching the floor for her clothes. She'd fed the magic he'd given her – pleasure in all its forms – eagerly and felt utterly exhausted as consequence. As she rose, she wavered a bit, but was able to steady the excessively quick revolving earth with two deep breaths.

Mouth didn't rush out of bed yet, he simply watched her dress up, captivated by this sight. Her skin was flushed and unblemished, her cheeks rose-tinted. He saw the dark spots on her skin, the marks of his affection that would soon darken into hickeys. And when she threw him a smirk, wearing only her jeans and a bra, he nearly melted.

Once fully clothed, Stef walked to the tape player, turned the cassette around and put the machine back on. The soft strumming of bass was catchy, and when she heard the voice of the woman singing, it just seemed to caress everything around her. Another ballad it seemed, and this time it was Fleetwood Mac.

"_For the tender moments with her,_" she whispered, mimicking the kind of pleasing bass voice you heard in commercials, urging you to buy something.

Mouth frowned at this, his irk soon replaced by pride. "I'm a pretty sensitive guy," he told her as he stood up and began pulling his jeans back on.

"No _wham bam thank you ma'am_?"

"My mom taught me better than that, Stef," he commented, hardly insulted by her teasing, "I never kiss and tell."

She believed him though; believed the notion that this was more than casual sex; that they clearly shared a connection. How she was supposed to feel about it was not clear though. Reconciling the Stef he knew and the Stef she was now felt difficult if not impossible.

"What're you thinking about?" he asked her, sensing her morose stare even when it was not pointed at him.

Her answer lingered a moment too long to be entirely convincing.

"You know I'll leave again, right?"

She seemed a little shaky, her previous elation replaced by uncertainty. Stef wasn't the fierce girl he remembered anymore, but someone haunted, a little hurt perhaps.

Mouth tried to appear cool, unfazed by her announcement, although it was tearing at his insides. "Yeah I figured as much," he eventually mustered an answer with a tainted voice.

This was worse than she'd thought. It was as if though they had suffered an eclipse that cast its shadow on his face.

"I need to graduate," she proceeded to explain, and yet it sounded unconvincing even to her ears.

"I get that," Mouth responded, his voice clear from the chagrin she'd expected. Actually he looked anything but the adolescent jester she remembered him as now; no, he rather looked serene and understanding.

The he simply shrugged at her, and moved towards the kitchen. "You want some coffee?"

How could he move on from a heavy topic like that to an offer to make her coffee? It was beyond her.

"Sure," she muttered in response, confused.

Stef followed him to the entrance of the kitchen, feeling that heavy lump of hurt inside her dissolve.

"I was thinking we'd have some coffee and snuggle," he joked, back to his casual charm. Stef watched him stand there, fully clad now, so carefree and alright. He was so good at pacifying things when all she wanted was to throw a fit, break everything in sight.

"You certainly know how to woo a girl, Mouth," she quipped, walking up to him and tying her hands around him as she hugged him from behind.

All was forgiven for now, problems brushed aside, and they drank their coffee, content for the time being.

It was when she made an ill-advised comment about never having imagined this before that he responded by reciting exactly what he'd fantasized about.

Stef listened with enchantment, excitement building inside her as he described it with much detail. He felt nourished in her presence, just the very sight of her like this, but couldn't stop telling her. His voice hitched a bit when she laid her hand on his knee beneath the table and let it advance to his thigh and the joint of his legs. Her eyes carried understanding, an equal desire.

He glanced at the cups, finding them empty, at the clock, realizing the hour was late. But he didn't say anything when the story was concluded and she rose, taking his hand and pulling him back to the living room in her wake. For once Mouth was silent for what seemed like an eternity as she proceeded to rock his world again.

TBC


	5. Eternal Flame

5. Eternal Flame

The night passed by in a flash, and she fell in bed next to him, forgetting to pick herself back up in her exhaustion. So they lay side by side, warm under the covers, safe in their private haven.

It wasn't until well into the morning that he was roused by the persistent ringing of the phone. Stef mumbled something indistinctive at him, trying to shoo the noise away in her sleep with her hand, and Mouth dragged himself out of bed against his will, realizing quickly that there was no other way to end the noise. As he rose Stef adjusted herself into the bed better, lying in the middle now, leg stretched across the spot where he'd just laid.

He caught a glimpse of her naked form, smiling to himself at the intimacy of the moment, their first morning together. Mouth then walked across the room and into the kitchen where the phone was making noise. The kitchen was flooded with light, whereas it had been pleasantly dim in the living room. He was blinded for a couple of precious seconds, proceeded to close his eyes and feel his way to the phone before his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

"Hello?" he answered the phone, his voice heavy and dark for a moment there.

Stef was also slowly coming to. She rolled on her back, realizing she was naked and wrapped inside someone else's sheets. Confusion struck like a blade, a blinding pain, until she remembered what had happened and sat up, leering around her, looking for him. She tied the covers around her, trying to keep up the illusion of modesty, despite her earlier actions. But when she spotted Mouth in the kitchen, standing naked, leaning against the wall with one hand and holding the phone, she calmed down instinctively.

"What makes you think she'd be here?"

She listened to Mouth talk, tried to guess what the phone call was about. It wasn't too hard to guess though, especially from his awkward pose. He kept swallowing, trying to clear his throat and regain his voice while listening.

"OK, point taken," he responded to the caller calmly.

"Uh huh."

Stef tilted her head curiously, wondering which of their friends had gotten wind of her staying over and was now grilling Mouth about it. She wouldn't have been too surprised if the others had set up a stake out by his apartment and had known the moment she hadn't come out for the night.

"Not going to answer that," Mouth mumbled wearily, and shook his head next, "or that."

"Why would you want to know about _that_?!"

Somehow this was sounding very familiar to Stef. She took notice of Mouth's unease and the vexation building in him, and chose to save the poor guy from further humiliation next.

"Mouth," she called to him, extending her arm, "Give me the phone."

He registered her offer, and motioned her towards the kitchen, showing her the short chord attached to his phone, signifying how it simply wouldn't stretch that far. Stef caught the idea though, and gathered the sheet around her, walking to the kitchen. He placed the phone in her hand, and vanished to the bathroom, clearly tired.

"Hey Andy," Stef greeted her friend, sounding more than a bit unimpressed with these antics.

"You little minx!"

"Andy, why are you calling me at Mouth's place?" Stef asked patiently, ignoring the enthusiasm Andy displayed on the other end. She was highly curious of how this had got around this fast. It shouldn't have been possible in her honest opinion.

"Your mom called our place last night. You're so lucky it was me that picked up the phone," Andy explained, filling the blanks for Stef who felt a heavy sigh escape her lips then and there.

"Oh shit."

"Year, she was asking if you'd stay for the night. It wasn't that hard to guess the rest."

There was a definitive suggestive tone in Andy's voice, the kind that was usually attached to a lecherous smile and a wink, and possibly a nudge.

"What did you tell her?" Stef asked, imagining all the shitty possibilities. Rumor control had failed on her big time, because she hadn't intended to say anything to Andy just yet. Of course she hadn't expected it to stay hidden for long, but a few days wouldn't have hurt.

Andy waited some seconds before answering, upholding the anticipation.

"I said you'd fallen asleep on the couch," she explained with sisterly warmth. Of course she had covered for her girl.

"Thank you," Stef breathed easily now, overcome by respite, ease.

"So how was it?" Andy asked.

"He makes a pretty good cup of coffee if that's what you mean," Stef answered flatly, rolling her eyes at her prying friend. She was not going to start reciting details over a crazy night at Mouth's, not to Andy. She knew them both, and Stef would never hear the end of it!

"Oh c'mon!" Andy whined, disappointed with Stef's lack of co-operation. "Did you like the angle of the dangle? Did you guys make out? Oh God, did you sleep together?!"

Stef had to bite her own lip to keep from laughing. The laughter bubbled in her, fueled by Andy's incoherent noises, little wheezes and whimpers, her continued begging for answers. But she could not answer, not now, not when Mouth emerged from the bathroom, wearing boxers and appearing a little less zombified.

He moved behind her, placing a kiss on her neck, his hand caressing her shoulder. Damn, he smelled good.

"Bye Andy," Stef said weakly, feeling lust grasp her insides, her gaze bound to Mouth's figure as she turned around and pressed her back against the wall, caught in his magnetism again.

"Stef, _seriously_, did you? I need to know! The world needs to know!"

"Bye Andy," Stef said again. She felt giddy as Mouth grabbed the phone from her hand, leaning close, eyes alit with capricious intent.

"Yowza!" Mouth spoke into the receiver in his hand. "You've reached the answering machine of Clark 'Mouth' Deveraux. Please leave your message after the peep."

His spare hand was leaning against the wall, just next to Stef's head. She didn't move, just waited.

"Mouth?" Andy asked, suddenly sounding serious.

"Yeah?"

"I'm happy for you."

He took in the words, tasting them, feeling them, while he lingered near Stef. Nothing could spoil the moment. Those precious seconds he really felt like he was on top of the world.

"Thanks Andy," Mouth whispered before placing the receiver on its holder, effectively ending the call.

"Everybody knows," Stef told him, rather amused with this twist.

"Or at least they will in a few hours," he added.

"Try thirty minutes."

"Do you mind?" he asked her, honestly unable to tell right now. She was still skittish, the conversation they had had last night proved it, but at least she was embracing some of it, acting like herself for a change.

"Should I?"

And he shook his head at her daredevil expression; the way she chose to ignore the fact that they didn't even know what was going on before the news had already spread. To him it was a good sign though.

"Well," he started, switching to a more comical tone, "If you're having second thoughts about last night you might."

Mouth leaned in to kiss her, and he noticed her grip on the sheet falter a bit as she pressed into the kiss. She managed to stable her grip, to keep herself covered, even as he tried to unnerve her according to his best ability. Once their lips parted, he felt her finger tips on his jaw, tracing shapes, sending the most sinful shivers across his body.

"Second thoughts about what?" she questioned, "About that thing you liked? Or the other thing you really liked, you know, the one that made you all silent?"

He snorted, liking the way she teased him so cheekily. Way to tap into a man's weaknesses.

"You mean the one that made me your bitch?" he offered with a laugh.

"That one? Nah, your face was worth every minute."

* * *

Of course explaining her absence to her parents once she came home with a hickey was a bit harder. Suddenly Andy wasn't a viable excuse, and her mother started giving her the amused eye, asking if it was one of her old friends. Since there weren't that many options it wasn't difficult for her to jump into conclusions and end up at Mouth being an ideal choice. And Stef tried to explain she didn't know anything her mom was saying, but then her mom recalled how eager Mouth had been to pick her up, and how the boy had been so in love with her in high school, and Stef just gave up.

Apparently the intensity of Mouth's lifelong infatuation had been clear to everyone else but her. She'd taken it for a crush, something that would wither once he met a cool girl of his own age. Well, it hadn't, not after (if the rumors were to be believed) a dozen girls. Instead he was charming her pants off without much effort.

So she walked the walk of shame to her room, telling her mom she didn't want to talk about it and that one night barely meant any kind of a lifelong commitment. Somehow she was left feeling like her mom hardly even listened to her though; that she just rolled her eyes and laughed at her, thinking what a blind girl she was.

Of course by the time she'd barricaded herself in her room, she saw a car pull to the parking lot and Andy stumble out of it, waving at her frantically, sending all-too giddy flying kisses at Stef. Ready to quit life, Stef fell into her own bed, refusing to move at all today, while her mother let Andy inside and guided her upstairs. So by the time both Andy and her mom started knocking on her door, curious for details, Stef really hoped she'd just crawled inside during the night and avoided this whole mess.

Though one thing that really puzzled her was how everyone was so freaking happy about this affair with Mouth. What the hell? How had the boy gone from an absolute pest into everyone's favorite son-in-law?

"Just go away!" she groaned, throwing a pillow at the locked door. All she heard from the hallway was laughter though, another sign that this was one avalanche she had no chance of stopping.

"C'mon Stef! There is nothing to be ashamed of," Andy told her through the door, sounding a little apologetic, a little encouraging, but mostly just glad.

Stef laid on the bed, staring at the roof, listening to her own heavy breathing. Childish outbursts aside, she'd never felt this good, this ecstatic. The hours with Mouth had been perfection; she'd actually felt safe, cherished. And they had listened to David Bowie and 'Rebel Rebel' and she'd pulled him close to dance with him, and he hadn't said a word to object, he'd just followed her lead.

"Why is this such a big deal to you anyway?" Andy asked, clearly leaning against the door, settling to a more comfortable position in the hallway. Stef could imagine her contemplative face, that sour look as she weighted her options.

"Because I like him, OK?" Stef finally answered, feeling like a 10-year-old, talking about crushes with her best friend.

"Stef, honey, do you want to talk about this with me or me and the rest of your household?" Andy asked, her apparent smirk shining through in her voice. Grunting, Stef pushed herself off the bed and walked to the door, letting Andy inside to avoid shouting through the door and thus saving herself from further embarrassment.

And Andy was just buzzing with energy, practically jumping around. Stef didn't recall ever seeing her like this, at least not in recent memory. But Andy herded Stef back to her bed with determination and a bit of motherly attitude.

"There's nothing bad about that, you know?" she said once they were both seated. Andy held onto Stef's hands, seeking for eye contact, for acknowledgement.

"And when this whole thing fails miserably, it'll end our friendship," Stef simply stated her worst fears aloud.

Andy responded with a stern pout. "Why would that happen?"

"Because-," Stef started, taking a huge breath, "Because I always mess things up."

"Really? Out of the two of you, you believe it'd be _you_ to screw things up?" Andy wondered, obviously finding this quite ludicrous.

"You haven't seen the latest cluster fuck relationships that I've been in."

"Honey, I saw the ones you attended and avoided for two decades."

Under Andy's piercing glare, it was impossible not to feel protected. The girl knew all of her secrets, even that one time she'd been in the heat of the moment and ended up making out with someone else's boyfriend on the beach, or that one time she'd broken her leg trying to drive a motorcycle and lied about it being a riding accident. Ok, so her life wasn't exactly glorious or dangerous, but both examples were things no one else knew about – Just her and Andy.

Stef threw her a mean glare, trying to hold onto her feelings, and found her annoyance slipping away at the sight of Andy's understanding face.

"It was good," she explained shyly. "Like really good."

Andy looked like a kid at a candy store. You could see the way the imagined it all in her head, romanticizing the whole ordeal because she couldn't possibly imagine the actual scene. The side of her mouth desperately wanted to quirk in response to think, but she struggled to remain serious in order to keep Stef talking.

"I always knew you two would make a cute couple," she noted.

"Couple? What? No, no, no, no. Not a couple, Andy!"

"What then? Friends with benefits?"

"That's just ugly."

"Well what did he say? What did you say?"

"I told him not to call me _babe_," Stef simply shrugged, realizing only now that they hadn't really had that conversation. Well, she'd tried, but Mouth had sidelined it for now. Because that conversation irrevocably changed things, it forced them to deal with the fact that she wasn't in Astoria for long; that eventually she'd go back.

As if sensing Stef's sudden revelation, Andy leaned in for a hug. "You forgot to talk about it, because you were blinded by his penis," Andy said sympathetically, bursting into uncontrollable laughter a second later as Stef jerked and pushed Andy off her in annoyance.

"Andy!" she shrieked, while Andy just laughed at it all, standing up, holding her stomach. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and waves of laugher held her, made her tremble.

"That's _not_ what happened," Stef mumbled a bit upset.

"That's _exactly_ what happened," Andy responded, apparently capable of holding herself together for a moment before she started giggling again.

And Stef bit her teeth together, trying to cope with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Andy was right. This thing kept getting out of hand. She wasn't the kind of girl to be so wrapped up in physical fascination that she forgot to think clear. She always planned ahead, thought about things, considered if the leap of faith was worth it at all. And now with him, she just relented without a fight; her intelligence vanished, leaving behind just a smitten little girl. How scary was that?

Also it was the chorus of a song somewhere, surely.

"It is not a bad thing," Andy tried to convince her, acting sympathetic again. "Losing control every now and then I mean."

But it simply did not happen to her, not her. Stef wanted to tell Andy this, to make her see why it was so alien, so incomprehensible, but somehow she felt like Andy got it even better than she did. Andy had been there all along, had seen every good moment and most of the bad, and heard the stories about the rest.

"Look the way I see it, you dated assholes before," Andy started explaining, talking like this was a long-rehearsed speech she'd known would come in handy one day. "And now you've got a genuinely nice guy, the kind that is good for you. It's scary because you don't see an exit."

Stef snorted and leaned over her knees, placing her face in her hands to rub the skin on her temples for a bit. When Andy made a speech though, she generally was right. Stef had always thought she'd make a great public speaker, someone to organize things. Instead she'd chosen to stay in Astoria, to take on a mundane day job, to ignore her inklings to study things, to make something of herself. A small part of her resented her friend for it, but another felt envious.

"You don't need an exit, Stef," Andy told her now. "Love's an adventure, get lost in it."

Love?

Stef's head snapped to Andy, her face recovering from shock. "No one ever said it was love," she hurried to explain, afraid that she'd given a completely wrong image about this whole deal.

"Cocklust then?" Andy suggested, getting punched in the arm playfully.

"OK, call it whatever you want. The truth remains, it's wonderful, it's amazing, and I will kick your ass if you don't take this seriously," Andy explained, rubbing her wounded arm.

Stef imagined she'd have a whole line of people wanting to get even if she screwed this up, so Andy's threat wasn't that frightening. She did get the message though. Live in the moment, and all that. Her face brightened a bit, the earlier moroseness gone.

"Thanks for the pep talk," Stef thanked her friend sarcastically.

"That one was free. I'll start charging you if this becomes a habit."

"Says the girl who practically forced herself in."

They shared a look of pure understanding, a mute complacency. Andy was still standing, observing her friend quietly. There was a thought she couldn't quite shake, a conclusion she'd reached some time ago, but she was still afraid to voice it though. Now seemed like a good moment for that.

"You didn't have close friends back there did you?" Andy asked with her arms crossed on her chest, walking carefully to the bed and sitting down.

Stef made an unintentional pout as she considered Andy's comment and the hurt that it entailed. "They were more interested in intelligent conversations that passed the Bechdel test than actually talking about things," she then revealed.

Andy narrowed her eyes, puzzled, and Stef found her ignorance refreshing. "Never mind," she said, grabbing hold of Andy's hand. "I had you."

TBC


	6. Don't Cry

6. Don't Cry

Andy called everyone, gathering the gang together with little trouble. Although Stef suspected it was less about having a good time together than it was to get everyone together in order to spread the gossip and watch her and Mouth interact together like lab rats in some kind of twisted experiment. If Andy hadn't become so domesticated, Stef could've vouched a career as a super villain for her.

It was cool at the beach; the sea pushed a breeze their way, effectively messing with her blonde hair. The sun was descending in the horizon, leaving a trail of red in its wake, and it looked like the skies bled in glorious crimson and gold. They walked down the beach in a group, much like they had as kids. The sand was soft and cool, no longer warmed by the sun, but most of them walked barefoot anyway, holding their shoes in the hands, running for a bit every now and then.

The mood was light. You couldn't tell anything had changed at first glance. But things were different, just a little bit. It was a subtle shift, but the tension was less now. Stef took it as proof that everybody knew already.

They picked a spot that wasn't near the shoreline, but in the protection of the rocks, safe from prying eyes. The boys gathered firewood and made a small fire on the sand. It wasn't exactly allowed, but they'd been doing this a long time now, just like any other group of teens in Astoria, and always found the excitement of getting caught more than a little exhilarating.

Chunk had left Sloth home this time around. Apparently his little sister had already agreed to take Sloth to the movies tonight, and fearing their evening on the beach would be a bit too long after Sloth's bedtime, Chuck had thought it better to leave him out of this one.

Andy and Brand were holding each other's arms as usual, acting romantic and starry-eyed. It was understandable, hell they would be married in the fall, and yet having seen this behavior for eight years, no one was that interested in it anymore.

Data had recovered from burning his eyebrows, and Stef quickly found out this wasn't even the first time that had happened. Someone joked that it was a family ritual of the Wangs to sort of earn their keep. Somehow that wasn't too hard for her to accept either. Data and Mouth sat together, making drawings into the sand, talking about cars and mechanics and a dozen other things she couldn't keep up with. From what Andy had told her Mouth and Data were both more into fixing and building things than the others and often found common ground in crazy projects, so the fact that their friendship had only grown closer along the years wasn't such a surprise.

Chunk explained about writing to Stef, and she listened intently, speaking her mind freely on the subject. She'd also taken creative writing, so it was refreshing to be able to talk about the topic with someone other than a fellow college student. By the sound of it, she was sure Chunk would write a book someday, which was certainly a more productive way to rein in his incredible imagination than the pranks he'd used to pull. Of course being questioned by a bunch of criminals and having to spill all of his secrets to them had kind of scared him out of that habit…

Mickey observed them from the other side of the fire, unusually quiet. Andy had mentioned he'd hoped to introduce his girl, Janet, to Stef today, but their turbulent relationship had hit another air pocket, thus burying those plans.

Stef could certainly relate to that. No one had outright said it yet, but she and Mouth weren't sitting together, or holding hands, or bickering. They just were. And it wasn't awkward or strange. It was fine.

But she could tell they were all waiting for it silently, for that moment they showed what was really going on, the moment the illusion cracked and they let the charade fall. So maybe it was an act of defiance, a game to see how long they could hold out. And if it was just that, they were both in it whole-heartedly, a common ploy against the rest.

As kids they'd told horror stories at campfire, tales with ridiculous twists and blood (or in the case of some, the plots of movies others hadn't yet seen). As adults they talked about the crazy world and its happenings while warming marshmallows on the fire, throwing friendly jabs around.

The more the sun advanced down the horizon, the colder it got. Stef realized she was pulling on her jacket, moving closer to the fire and still feeling cold. She snuck a look at Mouth then, and he instantly caught it, looking back. Then he realized she was rubbing warmth into her arms, looking pensive and a bit uncomfortable. Data was talking to him, and yet the words fell away, discarded, lost. He just registered her in that instant.

"You cold?" Mouth asked her. He didn't sound particularly whimsy, just mildly curious. And everyone was looking at them now, their undivided attention pointed at their exchange.

Stef was too cold to care.

"Yeah," she admitted, sniffing her nose a bit.

Mouth moved to his pack back, pulling a blanket from it and opening it in front of him.

"C'mere," he told her, and again it wasn't loaded with sexual innuendo or any kind of tension – Just your everyday caring. Stef stood up, walking up to him and sitting next to him, suddenly wrapped beneath a blanket with him. She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking at the flames.

But just as she was about to relax, to think it was nothing out of the ordinary, the chorus started singing.

"Shame, shame, we know your name!"

"Jesus, are you guys five or what!" she snapped at them, grabbing a handful of sand and tossing it at Data, then Chunk and Mickey. All three boys dodged quickly, their faces enlivened by the flush of success. But Mouth held her still, pulling her back when she tried to get up to chase them, and he just whispered something in her ear.

"You guys want to see something to actually be ashamed about?" Mouth quipped a moment before he pulled her closer for an epic kiss. It was theatrical by nature, meant purely for their audience, yet he enjoyed every second of it from the responsive way she was right with him in this game to the electric jolts that the kiss made travel down his body.

"No! You guys are turning worse than Andy and Brand!" Mickey complained with a huge smile on his face.

It just seemed to throw more gasoline into the fire as Mouth wrapped an arm around Stef and pulled her closer for a more passionate kiss, and their little romance extravaganza became completely over the top. She devoured his lips, making ridiculous noises, hiding her own laughter the best she could. Mouth petted her hair and kind of moved against her, trying to make it look as passionate as possible. But then their lips parted, and it wasn't possible to keep up the act. They shared a look, both recognizing this, and then broke apart, unable to continue the act. Stef was shaking with laughter, her head resting against his chest, arms around him, and Mouth just hugged her, also trembling.

"Honestly though," Data eventually sobered from laughter and moved back to his spot next to Mouth. "Are you going out now or what?"

Stef peeked at Mouth, saw him raise a brow at her and do some kind of crazy eye routine in an attempt to communicate wordlessly. She couldn't hold a straight face, and just turned to Data, shrugging, "He's my boy toy."

The reaction was immediate; everyone made a face, tried to keep the reaction inside, all failing simultaneously.

"Shame! Shame!" Chunk was yelling again.

"Too much information, Stef, too much," Data shook in his head, hiding his face in his hand.

Mouth didn't say anything to her about the evasive maneuver though. He held hope inside under lockdown, the hope that it wasn't just that; that he wasn't just a distraction for now. He sure as hell wanted this to last as long as possible. Nothing seemed to hold her down though, she was adrift, perhaps had always been.

* * *

By the time the fire was embers, and everyone was stargazing quietly, wrapped in blankets, resting on the cold sand, Stef had pressed herself against Mouth's side. He'd wrapped his arm around her and they looked up, bodies pressed comfortably into the sand.

"Do you ever think of leaving Astoria?" she asked him suddenly, having thought about it this past day, the thought haunting her waking hour.

Mouth didn't quite know where this was coming from, but he sensed an opening, a crack in her armor, and decided to go for it.

"What? You mean come with you?" he asked in return, that familiar daring tone in his voice.

"Not for me. For you," she clarified.

"For me?" He wasn't sure where she was going with this anymore, and the bewilderment shone through in his voice.

"Don't you want to go find your dreams? To study something? To go somewhere?" she asked, remembering so vividly how she'd wanted all of those things herself. The emotion had been overwhelming, desperate even.

"I need to stay here," he responded, his voice tainted by maturity, weighted down by it.

"Because of your dad?"

He swallowed painfully, clearly holding back hurt. Stef tensed a bit, lifting her body from the sand, leaning against her elbow as she looked down on him.

"Yes," he admitted, looking elsewhere, somewhere in the sky, at some constellation perhaps.

"Glaucoma," he eventually whispered. "He's going blind."

Her eyes quickly swelled with tears, having to look at him like that. It was like the Mouth she knew was on a knot, a really bitchy, stingy, hurtful knot that prevented him from getting clear. "I'm so sorry," she told him.

"I need to help him, and I'll continue to do it as long as he can still work. But I can't leave him. I just can't."

And she really felt like a villain for bringing it up, for even suggesting it. She'd known his dad was sick with something; that Mouth was staying here because of it; she just hadn't known the details. Well now she knew. Not knowing what else to do, she pressed a kiss against his temple, and saw him look at her with those sad eyes now.

"Don't worry," he then said, pushing her fringe behind her ear as he cupped her cheek. "I'll wait for you."

And with so little effort he pushed the mood of the moment back to light and humorous. She obliged him, realizing how difficult it was to talk about his dad, and she threw a fake fit, poking his chest a bit.

"You'll _wait _for me?" she mocked him, feigning shock. "This is not a rom com, Mouth."

"I know it isn't," he claimed.

"I mean, they always find some rich older guy, and you're not exactly Richard Gere ," she complained playfully.

"That hurts my feelings!" he objected. "But since you're no Julia Roberts either, so I guess we're even."

But as warmth fleeted from her, she just kissed him, rejuvenated by his touch. It didn't take long for the morality police nearby to start chiding them though, as Mickey and Data began the same old song and dance again. But Stef was content right here and then, even with the guys telling them to behave themselves.

* * *

It was late when they started dispersing. Andy and Brand had vanished a little earlier on, but the rest of them all pushed into Mouth's Chevy, almost sitting in each other's laps in the backseat after Chunk claimed shotgun. The tape player was blazing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' from Queen and the boys did their best rendition of it, singing along with a bit too much feeling. Stef just stared out of the window with a grin, hoping no one else was out at this hour or had to suffer through the noise. Chunk made sure they were driving with his window open too.

She observed Mouth through the rearview window discreetly, seeing no signs of the hopelessness she'd seen in him when he'd confided in her about his father. Did anyone else even know about it yet? How could he remain so positive after everything? She felt like she'd seen a glimpse of something rare and hidden, and now it consumed her thoughts like a bad habit.

Data turned to her, caught in the middle seat, laughing. She liked seeing him like this: dressed for success, a bit on the reckless side, but the same genius as always. He'd loosened up after his trying high school years when he'd studied tirelessly, even going as far as living a little less than the others as he chased his dreams of attaining good grades and making something of himself. She could bet the girls thought he was cute as hell too.

"I'm glad," he whispered to her, and Stef could barely make out the words through the loud singing.

"He deserves a chance."

_Oh, not this again_, she thought. Data was preparing another friendly speech about Mouth's undying love that she had only now graciously noticed. She realized her expression must've turned sour for Data's elation also changed into a more reserved curiosity.

"Yes, he does," she replied, succinct. Her gaze wandered through the car, through her happy, singing friends and back to Data, who leaned towards her to whisper something.

"So why the long face?"

Did she have a long face? Stef sort of froze, stopped to think about it for a minute. Oh yeah, Mouth's revelation. But she couldn't say anything about it, because the others might not know. She struggled for a second, trying to think of something to say.

"Just tired," she lied.

"Or worried," he answered, surprising her with his perceptiveness.

"A bit yeah," Stef admitted, figuring she was unable to hide anything from the others all of the sudden.

She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes trying to catch the air guitar solos of Chunk and Mickey, while they sung high and low with Freddy, fully immersed in the insane flow of the song. But instead of the two she saw Mouth's eyes looking back at her through the mirror. He was singing too, but he was checking on her at the same time.

"I get that," Data said to her surprise, snapping her focus back to him, "I mean do you really want to look at _that _for the rest of your life?"

She cracked a smile at his jab, relaxing visibly. And Data was glad to see her smile again. The strange reservation she seemed to have for everyone lately was a bit troubling, but he didn't want to ask about it directly, fearing it'd be rude. So instead he winked at Mouth through the mirror and proceeded to play the air guitar, mimicking Mickey's movement beside him while Stef was still rolling her eyes in disbelief.

They dropped off Mickey first, giving more room to the backseat, then Chunk, and finally Data who gave Stef a courteous hug before leaving. She hugged him back, feeling a little light-headed, a little appreciated and also a bit like she was on some sort of weird probation, but the feeling passed when he stepped outside, practically jogging to his parents' house.

Mouth kept the car running as he watched Data disappear into his house, eyes on his friend intently as if he was waiting. Once Data vanished through the door, he turned to Stef.

"You wanna jump to the front seat?" he asked, leaning his hand against the back of his seat and looking at her.

Stef was leaning against spot between the door and the seat, unwilling to move or do anything. "Do I need to?" she asked, fatigue visible in her voice.

"This isn't Driving Miss Daisy, you know?" Mouth quipped back, motioning her to the front seat, even as she really didn't feel like moving. Stef acquiescent though, knowing he would continue propositioning her until she did. Mouth had always had the knack for driving people to do his bidding either through harassment or a well-placed slander. She wasn't exactly eager to experience that right now.

She stepped out and back in, somewhat refreshed by the cool outside air. But even as she buckled her seat belt and made herself comfortable, he still didn't start driving. They remained parked on the side of the road, a nervous mood in the air suddenly.

Stef swallowed, recalling the moment where Data had asked about their relationship status and she'd tossed a joke at him, unable to say anything for real. Then she stared at her sweating hands guiltily, wondering if this was really about that.

"Look if this is about what I said-," Stef started, sounding defensive and feeling like an inconsiderate asshole again.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that thing about my dad to anyone," he interrupted her instead, that strange distance in his eyes again. It dispelled her worries, even the small hostile bit that she'd felt rise, sheltered by the earlier tension.

"I wasn't going to," she confessed and looked elsewhere, knowing she didn't bear to look at him like this, so torn, almost lost.

"Thanks."

Another silence followed, but there was no sexy tension, no euphoria to get lost in – Just this strange oppressive calm.

"Stef."

The sound of his voice returned the unease, made her skin crawl. And he looked like he wanted to say something else, to tell her something that really bothered him, but she interrupted him by leaning over and pressing her lips on his. This kiss was all her: drowning, effective, and salty.

She did everything in her power to overwhelm him, to push the hurt aside that she'd thought she'd heard in his voice. Her hand moved to his neck, soon cupping his cheek, the rugged remnants of his stubble prickling her skin as she broke contact to breathe and then kissed him again, feeling the closeness swallow her whole just like before.

By the time they pulled away, he seemed to have forgotten what he was about to say. Mouth held his hands at her waist; somehow they'd crept there in the middle of her kisses, caressed her sides. His earnest look was a bit uncertain, definitely showing how successful her diversion had been.

But she kissed him again just to make sure. He seemed to appreciate her convincing though, judging by the sounds he was making anyway, she noted triumphantly, continuing to distract him for a little while longer as this was a conversation she truly wanted to avoid – just for a little while longer.

TBC


	7. Home Sweet Home

7. Home Sweet Home

Her mouth was full of chips and yet she tried to eat them as quietly as possible while her eyes followed the scantily dressed teenager on the TV screen. Stef didn't dare tear her eyes from the screen. The tension was all over the room, and it affected all of them. Sure, the boys had claimed they'd seen the movie before, but judging by their faces, they were engrossed in it just as much.

She put more chips in her mouth and made the mistake of crunching a bit too loud. Two seconds later three heads turned towards her, all supporting chilling stares that placed blame on her for ruining the illusion. Stef swallowed guiltily and leaned backwards a bit to get comfortable, but the uncomfortable twinge from the bottom of her stomach didn't vanish until those eyes were firmly focused on the movie again. Next to her, she could swear Mouth was holding back a relaxed laugh. Then he did the classic arm stretch above his head and smoothly placed his hand on her shoulders.

Meanwhile they were all focused on the victim that stalked the empty halls of the basement of dread while the disfigured killer chased her, played with her. Horror wasn't her preferred genre, so she'd been graciously spared from having to experience _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ until now, and to her surprise it was actually quite thrilling. Of course the circles she'd been in recently were more interested in watching films by Scorsese, Kubrick or Allen, because they had 'substance'. A wisecracking killer from hell with little justification for the killings certainly didn't fit in there, but she was mesmerized.

All the guys were at the edge of their seats, even to the point of forgetting to sip their beers. Chunk was unusually quiet, which she supposed you could attribute to the long shift he'd pulled at the hospital. Data was practically swooning at the screen, because apparently he had a huge crush on Heather Langenkamp and she was his favorite horror girl. Mouth just liked watching movies with his friends. Stef had simple been here when the others had arrived, and had gotten swept into this almost involuntarily.

And then the killer revealed himself and they were grinning like children. Stef noted to herself how perverse it really was. Freddy killed kids, boys and girls only a few years their junior (and a lot younger when he'd still been alive as the movie explained), and here they were rooting for _him_. But she couldn't quite take it too seriously. A lot of the things happening on screen were just so ridiculous.

Of course by the time the electronic score kicked in the stalking was done with and it was time for Nancy to make a run for it. Stef realized she was also smiling, that sensation of excitement in the bottom of her stomach. She took a quiet swig out of Mouth's beer, an action that felt like the most natural thing in the world for her right now.

By the time the credits rolled she'd gotten a comfortable position on the sofa, leaning into Mouth. His warmth was so pleasing, so good. Compared to the flings and past boyfriends it felt completely different. She couldn't recall fitting into the whole dating scene with such ease before.

"OK guys, what next?" Chunk asked, placing his bottle on the table with a loud thump as he rose. He picked up the pile of cassettes on the table, separated the first two from the rest and showed them to everyone else now. "Nightmare Two: Freddy Goes Gay or Nightmare Three: Dokken is the Shit?"

His comment got its fair share of eye rolls, so Stef supposed the gay remark had been heard before. "What?" Chunk asked when he noticed the lukewarm response of his friends. "Don't tell me it isn't a gay bar Jesse walks into!" he defended himself, asserting he hadn't meant any harm.

Stef actually found this a bit curious, considering what a small town they lived in. The subject was very much taboo in smaller communities. It was easier to get lost in stereotypes and ignorance with the gay community in these parts than in the big city. Hell, she knew at least two people who swung that way back at college.

"Maybe you can ask Troy what a gay bar looks like, moron," Mouth mumbled, eliciting laughs from Data, who had to cover his mouth to keep it down.

At this, Stef actually froze. Troy? Troy Perkins was gay? Like, for real?

Apparently her face was enough to convey the utter shock this was, and Data hurried to explain. "Yeah, Troy is gay," he told her.

Somehow it just wasn't sinking in. Stef could remember Troy's lecherous ways like it was yesterday. Of course in retrospect he might've just been overcompensating.

"Wow," she simply uttered.

"It's actually pretty cool. Made him into less of an asshole anyway," Data chipped in.

Probably because now the privileged jerk knew what it was like to be part of a minority, Stef decided.

"Okay," she nodded.

"Guys," Chunk whined a bit, waving the two tapes in front of them. "Which one?"

Then he glanced at Data, who glanced at Mouth, who then passed the decision onto Stef. And once again all three boys were looking at her expectantly. She on the other hand had no idea why they were even discussing this.

"Why would you want to watch them out of order?" she wondered aloud.

And judging by their faces, this was one conversation they'd had quite often. Chuck was suddenly inhaling deep, as if preparing to give her a lecture. Data sighed audibly, and Mouth leaned forwards to get up and go to the fridge. It made Stef also consider leaving the room, but apparently she had to stay here, since this was a can of worms she'd opened herself.

"Number two is just redundant."

"Like Dream Warriors wasn't the start of the decline with too many one-liners."

"The kid isn't even an Elm Street kid in Revenge!"

"Well, not all of us are into Dokken and Heather the Razzie contender."

And it went on for awhile, this baffling debate between two friends. Stef simply sat there listening to them go at it. Mouth had cleverly excused himself to the kitchen and he wasn't coming back, a move that Stef was bitter over. Of course he'd taken the opportunity to abandon her at a crucial moment.

"But the pool scene! There's nothing like it in Dream Warriors."

"Don't tell me you like Jesse defeating Freddy with the power of love."

"He's not scary at all in Dream Warriors."

"He turns into a nurse, seduces you and his tongues tie you to a bed over a fiery pit in his dream hell. Did we even watch the same movie?!"

At this point Stef gathered her courage and coughed a bit to gain their attention. Seconds later both with staring at her, looking at her like she would end the stalemate between them. Instead Stef just bluntly asked, "Do we really need to watch NOES films all night?"

"Yes!" they both exclaimed almost simultaneously.

She then sighed in defeat. "Ok, we watch them all then."

"Of course we watch them all," Chunk said, "But in what order?"

Seriously, she was getting at her limits here. It wasn't enough that she was stuck with three guys in the middle of the week, doing a horror movie marathon where you couldn't even take a damn bathroom break without scolded because that meant they had to pause the movie, so she wouldn't miss any of it. Saying she wouldn't mind if that happened, just invited more judgment her way.

"I need to pee," she said, standing up and escaping while she still could.

"Um, Stef the bathroom is the other way!" Chunk tried to tell her as she headed towards the kitchen. It didn't take the two more than a few minutes to ignore her and go at it again.

She tiptoed around corner to the kitchen, throwing a dirty glance at Mouth who was leaning against the counter in his Levis, supporting a knowing smirk that only widened when he saw her sour face.

"This is why we couldn't attend date night?" she asked him, folding her arms across her chest.

Andy and Brand and Mickey and his girl were enjoying a double date, but when they'd asked her and Mouth to come along, he'd simply stated they had other plans. These so-called other plans meant this lovely movie marathon, which he'd only told her about when the guys had arrived to the scene. What a lucky she was…

"What? Don't tell me this isn't fun?" Mouth answered, and his voice downright mellifluous, dripping sweetness. She could imagine he'd turned many heads with that voice in the past.

"_The best_," she hissed sardonically.

"Stef," he frowned. "It would've been worse out there. Trust me."

Something about the way he said it certainly convinced her. Her conviction died a little as uncertainty gnawed at it. She waited for Mouth to provide an explanation, but he was stuck looking at her again, taking in the details of her face, letting his gaze wander across her body.

"Yeah? How so?"

"The dynamic duo isn't exactly nice to be around," he settled to explain.

"The what?"

"Mickey and his special lady, Janet. Turbulence is pretty good description of that word."

"And it's better to listen to _that_ old married couple?" she questioned, pointing her finger towards the living room.

Smiling, he reached for her, pulling her close as his arm wrapped around her waist. She didn't resist even if she tried to keep her face straight and keep up the appearance of being offended. He could tell she'd mellowed already though. She'd always been cool that way: easy to hang with whether you were a girl or a guy, not one to lose her temper easily. She was the kind of girl you could easily imagine driving shotgun with you to a secluded place, blasting Mötley Crüe and making out for hours – Which was not a bad idea actually, now that he'd thought of it.

"I'm told," he said, fiddling with the collar of her t-shirt, "that we ought to have a chaperone."

She chuckled at this. "What?"

It was amazing how she was all smiles in a second, looking at him so bemused. He loved seeing her like this. "Yeah, that's actually why we got invited to this date night. So in response I assured we'd have chaperones."

She laughed, and he pressed a kiss on her temple, inhaling her scent. His fingers tugged at the helm of her shirt and she shifted, pressing her lips on his a second later, which plunged them both in a sweet madness right away. He felt her hips move, grind against his, and damn it was amazing. Mouth realized he was making a low growl against her lips, that air escaped his lungs in a lustful sigh, and he pushed her back at bit to pin her down.

"Hey!" there was a sudden shout from the living room, and he felt her stop, could already see the charming blush forming on her cheeks in his mind's eye.

"This is the official virgin alarm! You guys better not be doing anything naughty back there!" Chunk's cheerful voice announced.

"Your alarm is only about half a decade late Chunk!" Stef yelled back, giggling. Obviously the guys were a bit stricter with this chaperone business than Mouth had intended. Mouth just rolled his eyes in defeat, stroking a loose strand of Stef's blond hair that'd fallen apart from her ponytail to frame her face.

"We'd better get back," she whispered.

He moved his hand down her arm, sliding to her palm as he crossed their fingers. "Forget your refill," he then quipped. "The sequels will only get progressively worse."

"How many?" she groaned.

"There's only five left," Mouth promised with a smirk.

* * *

By the fourth movie, Stef was contemplating escaping the apartment through the window with a rope made of sheet. It worked in the movies, so that had to come from somewhere, right? Aside from terrible acting, special effects, an over the top villain, and some downright bizarre moments the movies weren't _that bad_, just repetitive. Also the insane amount of plot analysis and fierce debates the movies resulted in worked according to the snow ball effect – they just kept getting bigger.

They'd started at six, so by now it was well past midnight, and she could tell Chunk was about to doze off. Not that it was much of a surprise, since he'd vocally objected the recasting in this part, so it probably wasn't a favorite. Data also seemed to battle exhaustion, but he soldered on, probably out of spite. Meanwhile Mouth let Stef lean into him, and he was gently stroking her fingers while they watched the film.

"So why are you still single?" Stef asked Data with a sleepy voice. She was too tired to care about movie etiquette, especially when she was living a constant déjà vu of a creepy demon stalking rowdy teenagers. She wasn't exactly missing anything important here.

"He had a girl sometime back," Mouth politely filled in when Data ignored the question. He quickly got side-eyed by his friend.

"She moved away," Data then filled in, shrugging.

"Long distance didn't work out?" Stef asked, feeling anxious all of the sudden.

"You try maintaining a relationship through the phone," Data answered, his voice revealing just how recent the wound was, and how he was still hung up on this girl. To Stef though his words were cutting, another reminder of how impossible this might turn out to be.

She turned away from Mouth, leaning forwards to take the last few crumbs of chips, but what she really was doing was trying to beat down the urge to slap her face for bringing it up. Lucky for her, Mouth quickly stepped in to patch the situation.

"Phone sex is kind of hard when you only have one phone at your parents place," he said, effectively bringing a smile on Data's face. He fake punched Mouth's side then, shaking his head. "You have a one track mind, dude," Data complained, although you could see he was glad for the rescue.

"All I'm saying is you should've taken the chance to bunk with me when offered!" Mouth quirked a brow and raised his bottle for Data. Data mirrored his gesture and they toasted in unison just as Data answered, "Better stay at home than risk my girlfriend being tricked into having phone sex with you."

At this, Stef had to straighten herself. "What?"

"He's just making a joke," Mouth assured her.

"Mouth runs the worst kind of practical jokes on us all the time," Data explained, elbowing Chunk on his side, waking him immediately. Apparently Chunk had succeeded in dozing off after all. Now he was just glancing around, gaining his bearings, clearly feeling a little disoriented.

"What'd I miss?" Chunk asked, rubbing his eyes. Two seconds later another ridiculously bizarre murder occurred on-screen, but everyone was just looking at Chunk at this point.

"We should've exploited this," Mouth noted with a crooked smile.

"Totally," Data replied as they both eyed Chunk like a potential victim.

"Done the old spoon trick."

"At the least!"

"Or used permanent marker."

"Tied his shoelaces together."

"Guys!" Chunk complained. "Not cool. I had a long shift."

Stef took the opportunity to stand up, excusing herself for the bathroom. Not that the guys seemed to notice as they were engaged in verbal sparring, shoving one another playfully. She tip toed to the bathroom, closed the door carefully behind her, and stopped in front of the sink. At first she was just washing her face, trying to freshen up in order to stay awake a little longer, but then as she rose and dried her face into the towel, she caught a glimpse of her own face and realized how her earlier smile was gone. Her eyes looked puffy, like she was about to cry.

"What are you doing?" she whispered to herself. Even her voice sounded frail.

Yet all she could think of was the pure, unadulterated disdain she'd heard in Data's voice as he recalled his long-distance relationship. Was this where she was headed with Mouth? Would they talk about her the same way once things went sour for them? Wasn't it always the fault of the party that wasn't around to defend them?

She heard herself sobbing before she even realized she was doing it. She quickly moved her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. And her eyes were filling with tears no matter how much she fought them. She kept on blinking to reduce them, but eventually needed to dry her eyes on toilet paper. For a few seconds she just focused on breathing, on normalizing it after anxiety began to quicken it.

"Stef! What are you doing there?" someone yelled, and the voice was followed by indistinguishable chatter. She actually rolled her eyes at this, not wanting to know what the hell the boys were thinking right now.

"You're gonna miss the climax!"

Like anything could top human cockroaches and soul pizza, she thought.

And then Mouth's gentle voice through the door, "Honestly though, we don't have to watch more movies. You've been a brave, brave soldier Stef!"

She chuckled. "You promise?"

"Cross my heart. Just come back and finish this one, and will kick these two out, and do something more engaging!"

"In the official role of chaperone I object!" Chunk yelled straight after.

"Seconded!" Data added.

There it was again, that smile. She held onto it as she came out and returned to the couch, sitting on the spot that Mouth gently tapped. And as soon as she was settled in nicely, Mouth leaned to her, whispering, "I have this idea. You, me, in the car, Mötley Crüe…"

TBC


	8. When Tomorrow Comes

8. When Tomorrow Comes

It was kind of hard to believe how things had turned out in the span of just a few days. Clark Deveraux, that mouthy kid she'd used to know as a constant pain in the ass, had someone turned everything upside down, a long overdue visit to the homestead into a daydream. She lived and breathed this intoxication, this attraction that had appeared out of nowhere and grown into something potent.

For the first time in years it felt easier to walk, to talk, to just be – All because he made her heart flighty, her legs too heavy for the wind to carry. In the past it'd been easy to overcome the impulse to stay, to enjoy the silence, but with him it was so damn strong after just a few days. So she had to wonder if it'd really been there all along, this spark that hadn't quite matured into attraction back then? Or was it simply timing? Did he feel right because she was so weary of making the wrong choice in life? Because for once she didn't just want someone, she wanted _him_.

Stef realized she was counting the hours to each new encounter quickly enough. Rumors flew, people gave her glances in the street, and when she saw Mouth's mother at town she got an approving look. Monday turned into Saturday in the blink of an eye, and half the nights she didn't even wake up in her own bed, but back at his place, this calm fortress where she could just be. Not that Mouth complained, no, he kept tightening his tendrils around her without much effort.

She pushed aside the knowledge that this rapture could only last for so long, and embraced it wholly while she could; fearing it would end abruptly, leave her stranded before she knew it. It didn't mean she could continue brushing these fears aside though. Stef simply chose to stay silent, just for now.

* * *

More moments of magic, seconds onto hours etched into his memory followed. He threw himself into it, enthralled by her more and more, even when he'd thought he couldn't get any deeper into this enchantment. And everyone was voicing their approval of their hook up, speaking of their wishes – everyone but Stef.

Mouth sensed it stronger with each encounter, how she had part of herself locked away, how she was always anticipating a backslash of some sort for her actions, no matter how subconsciously. Stef was slippery, hard to grab a hold of. Those four years away had taken something from her, run off with it, and he didn't know if she'd get it back. He tried to ask about it, this unspoken hole in her chest, but couldn't find the words, as crazy as that was.

"I have to say I'm surprised," Mickey commented, flicking popcorn into his mouth lazily. Mouth actually needed to shake himself a bit to catch the words, to return to the moment as he'd drifted off somewhere completely else in the middle of their movie hour.

"I actually thought the whole deal with Stef was doomed."

Mouth rolled his eyes in boredom. "I told you she needed time," he claimed cockily, grabbing a handful of popcorn from Mickey.

"But she's still kind of reserved, don't you think?" Mickey asked.

Those were Mouth's thoughts as well. Reserved was a good word. She'd get enthusiastic, banter like they'd used to, delude him with closeness, but there was that strange barrier in place that he didn't seem to overcome.

"People change," Mouth responded with unusual sensitivity. He didn't want to voice his doubts, not now. It'd been just a few days since she'd succumbed to his charm, and he'd spent pretty much every moment he could with her since, knowing he might not have all the time in the world.

"Fair enough I suppose," Mickey mumbled back, seemingly unconvinced. He didn't want to challenge Mouth though, not if his friend wasn't actually willing to talk about this now.

Mouth noted the way Mickey backed off immediately, how he seemed to sense the sensitive subject. They'd been friends for over a decade now, shared practically everything, even the hurtful things. The only thing Mouth had kept from Mickey, ever, was his father's progressive illness, and that wasn't his secret to tell. Everything else, no matter how big or small, he'd always shared, making no big deal of the habit.

He adjusted his position on the sofa, a sudden feeling of discomfort penetrating his easygoing façade. The uncertainty showed on his face, a shadow that he couldn't shake. Mickey saw it as clear as day but didn't want to say anything. He waited for his friend to be ready, to talk about it when he wanted to.

"I don't know if it's doomed or not," Mouth then said, realizing how good it felt to say it aloud to someone at least. "We haven't really talked about her leaving."

"Why?"

Another excellent question, Mouth noted, munching on the popcorn. His skin felt tight at the thought of Stef leaving again, especially now that she finally returned his feelings. Would this end in tears with him watching her leave all starry eyed, and then realizing one day she hadn't come back?

"She kinda keeps distracting me."

"Ugh, please, no details," Mickey groaned, collapsing on the other end of the sofa, his whole posture just replaced by a boneless mess.

His voice was laced with irritation for he'd had to bear with Mouth's obsession for almost a decade now, and even though he was glad things were finally looking up, he just couldn't treat Stef like Mouth's other flames, girlfriends and conquests. Aloofness was impossible when the girl in question was a friend, a mentor and just someone he too cared about deeply.

Mouth snorted at him, grabbing more pop corn for himself.

"I have no interest in divulging the details," he said convincingly enough, his mouth drawing into a straight line that conveyed nothing in particular. Usually Mouth was the most emotive of them all, his gestures and moods easily categorized. Lately Mickey had caught him with an odd expression more and more, like he was actually caught in some complex thinking.

"Honestly though," Mickey coughed, claiming eye contact, "How do you vision this ending?"

"A house, two point five kids, a dog and a white picket fence," Mouth joked, a sparkly smile suddenly on his lips. Something told Mickey he was probably being a little serious about it too.

"So you'll be in a long distance relationship with her for awhile, and then she'll move back here, and you'll live happily ever after?"

No, he couldn't see that. Stef was tricky; she was like a force of nature, always going where the wind blew, vanishing in a second. He wandered if she was truly a drifter at heart and whether he could actually tie her down. So far things had just followed the amazing chemistry they felt between them, that feeling of being wholly rejuvenated when you were close. He couldn't imagine it would continue like this, no matter how much he needed it to.

"Look, Mickey," Mouth drew in a heavy breath, preparing to say the words, the light-hearted denial, but it was caught in his dry throat.

Mickey shook his head. "Just tell her you love her already."

"Whoa, I never said I was in love with her," Mouth hurried to his defense nervously. He wanted to brush off the comment, to deny it. And yet the way his insides quavered at the sound of it just proved how right it was.

"Everyone and their mom knows you love her."

"Dude-"

"-and if you don't, which I don't believe for a second, then what the hell are you doing with her? She's a friend Mouth. You don't get involved with a friend unless you're pretty damn sure."

Mickey's speech was somewhat sobering though. They were all bound – the people on that beach that day – by unseen forces, a kind of unique experience. It was sacred, pure. You didn't mess with that.

He recalled writhing in pain when she'd left Astoria, beating himself over not doing anything to stop her, to tell her how he'd felt. He remembered the joy in learning she was coming back, and the way she'd taken his breath away when he'd seen her first, sitting on that bench, scanning her surroundings. And even after the kisses and promises, the exhilarating moments with her in his arms, he still craved for more. If this wasn't love then what the hell was?

"OK, I see your point," Mouth mumbled self-consciously, unwilling to admit it aloud.

"You need to tell her," Mickey advised softly, sinking his hand into the paper cup absentmindedly, grabbing some popcorn and then releasing them back into the cup. "Otherwise she'll miss it – Again."

"So your advice is to pop that in there after just a few days?"

"Not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but Mouth, you need to do this before she leaves."

"No wonder you're still single."

At this point though, Mickey grabbed some pop corn and tossed it at Mouth's head. Mouth took in the first wave calmly, barely registering the rain of pop corn, but when he realized Mickey wasn't stopping there, he quickly picked up the nearest newspaper for a shield and tried to dodge the next attack.

"I'm just saying," he announced loudly, "-that in my experience that's the tactic that gets you kicked out naked in the street."

"And how many girls have you turned down after they told you how madly they were in love with you?" Mickey scoffed back with doubt, not believing for a second that Mouth was doing anything but making up excuses here.

"A few. But I did it with tact!"

"Knowing Stef, she'd just bust your balls."

"Precisely. I'm very fond of my balls!"

At this point, being already covered in popcorn and salt, Mouth made a quick attack towards Mickey and grabbed the cup from his hands, finally ending the childish stalemate. Once he'd secured Mickey's weapon of choice, he grimaced and started to rake through his hair with his hand to clean it from the pop corn pieces and salt.

Mickey was still caught in their conversation though, his expression growing more adamant. "Isn't she worth the gamble though?" he asked with almost childish faith, being the romantic he was.

Mouth didn't pause for long before he admitted it, "She is."

They were sitting on the sofa now, both leaning their elbows over their knees, barely registering what was happening on the TV. Mouth continued to ruffle his hair in a vain attempt to clean it, and Mickey just sat in silence, thinking about what Mouth had just said.

"She looked happy though," he finally commented, his words bringing Mouth to a halt. "On the beach with you, I mean."

There was a tingling on his skin, something in him thinking that it was possible; that he could actually have that effect on her.

"So either she feels something for you too, or she's been popping too many painkillers. Just saying."

* * *

It was raining outside. Stef stared out of his window, disappointment enveloping her too tight, leaving little room for recovery. They had promised to go out together, eating like regular couples, or whatever the hell they were. But the downpour was quick and strong; it looked like nothing could escape its path unscathed. She was wearing just a summer dress – precisely the kind of thing you didn't want to get wet in public so that you and everyone else could see the shape of your underwear beneath.

It was a strange kind of rain though; the sun still shone through it bright, made the grey raindrops into silver and the puddles of water everywhere into an ocean of light. The sight was captivating, and she was stuck here watching it like a kid, trying to figure out how this was possible.

But then Mouth blocked her view by pushing the curtain between her and the window, closing them in the twilight, a strange look on him.

"I'm not getting out there," she said dryly, hands wrapped protectively around her chest.

"We can talk here as well," he replied, setting her blood aflame, pleasurable licks of heat emerging in her.

"Are you sure you _want to talk_?" Stef asked mischievously, passing him by and moved to the bed.

He watched her place herself there: legs spread, hair still messy, the shoulder strap of her dress falling to her elbow, as if begging to be stripped completely. He needed to make a mental note of how gorgeous the red dress looked on her. The material was soft; the fabric cut just the right way to enhance her bosom and waist.

Mouth followed her, made him comfortable, lying on one side, his gaze set on her, those lively eyes that radiated excitement. Neither was moving in to kiss, to touch. The rain was drumming outside to an almost tribal beat that served as background music.

"Tell me about college," he said to her surprise, watching as she discarded her seductive pose, heartbreak suddenly visible on her face, awkwardness in her body.

She avoided looking at him for a moment, gathered herself in silence, feeling her own heartbeat grow thicker. Just thinking about it was enough to set her off. She struggled with a starting point, between telling the lie and the truth, even though she knew he must've seen a glint of it already, had begun suspecting something. Why else ask about it?

"Why'd you leave?" Mouth asked her, trying to dig into this pain in her that clearly wanted to combust, but which she kept contained, in check. "I mean, you didn't have to go so far. We had schools right next door."

Stef glanced at him again, his face that was so close to her, a foot away. She moved her arm beneath her head, seeking for a comfortable position even when she knew she wouldn't find one. Nothing could make the maelstrom inside subside.

"I was silly and childish," she admitted, thinking back on those days, at age 20. She'd thought she knew everything, that she could do anything. "I wanted to be _somebody_."

Although she didn't say it aloud, the insinuation was she'd thought she could only do that by going somewhere with a name, somewhere big on the map.

Mouth moved just an inch, his hand touching hers reassuringly. It was thundering outside, her chest heaved more noticeably at this, but he wanted to show her she was safe here.

"So I went, I saw, and I wasn't good enough."

It stung like a bitch to say that now. She didn't cry though. She was just pissed off.

"I was just a country girl there, a second class citizen at best. I needed to change everything I was just to get by."

So she'd become Stephanie: The woman who wore skintight skirts, knew French, could debate like a pro and didn't need anyone to tell her what she could or could not do. But this was just some kind of twisted superhero fantasy, not a real person. This woman laughed at the appropriate jokes, bought her coffee from a shop and wore heels everywhere.

"Why do all that?" he asked her, unable to grasp how anyone could think she wasn't perfect just the way she was.

She rolled her eyes; it seemed all so silly now, but back then she'd been desperate to fit in, to succeed.

"I'd come too far to fail. And the worse it got, the less I wanted to come back here," she paused for a bit, swallowing a painful lump in her throat, actually overcome by its weight for a moment. He could see the tears in her eyes, how they struggled to emerge despite her iron resolve to keep them at bay.

"_Brevity is the soul of the wit_," she recited, making it apparently clear how deeply she resented those words. Had it been her code to live by? Was that why the sassy, take-charge Stef he knew had been buried beneath what was proper?

"I guess I just got cast in another part along the way," she concluded bitterly, fingers curling into his as he joined their hands. Coming back here had only reinforced her belief that she could never be Stephanie, that it'd been an illusion.

"Consider that part recast then," he told her softly, squeezing her hand. "Stay here."

"I can't see a future here for me, Mouth," she tried to explain, although his suggestion made her feel warm and wanted.

"I can. It's with me."

She was suddenly ferociously awake, his words digging into her flesh forcefully. Her gut was telling her to run again, to never look back. It had been so easy to take off in the past, to fidget and play dumb, yet with him it wasn't like that.

She hadn't said anything yet, and here he was bearing his heart, but Mouth didn't care. He recalled Mickey's words, how it'd be too late soon, so why not make this the point of no return?

"I don't just like you, Stef. I love you. I always have," he confessed, hand still holding hers, his eager heartbeat detectable against her palm. She was mesmerized by this moment though, truly taken aback.

"Eight years is hardly always, Mouth," she finally breathed in response, disbelieving, a little flustered by the attention. Suddenly she was feeling incredibly hot and bothered.

"I know what I feel," he insisted.

"Well I don't!" she revealed, her voice breaking, tears shining in her eyelashes as she blinked furiously to keep from crying. "I don't know what I feel."

But it wasn't a kick in the nuts, or a rejection really, he noticed with relief. Stef didn't know what to say after just a few days, barely a week into this thing.

"You will," he promised her, placing his free hand on her cheek that was moist from tears now. And she pushed against him, head buried into his chest, his arms holding her safe.

Mouth held her close, nose buried in her puffy hair, fingers tickling the exposed skin over her shoulder blades. Stef wasn't sobbing, she didn't break into tears. Instead the hurt vanished in silence as she steadied herself; put these secrets back behind locked doors. They felt a lot easier carry now somehow, as if sharing them had helped lift their weight.

"I want to be with you for now," she told him, "to see what this is."

He didn't object. Even if this was everything he'd get, it'd be something to remember, something to conclude the decade long crusade to tell her how he felt.

TBC


End file.
